Resonance Cascade
by ProfessorEon
Summary: London, Hogwarts and the rest of the Potterverse is rocked when a twenty year old man is transported to their world by way of a mysterious purple energy. Who is Chris Johnson? Why is he here? And will his arrival change the course of history, for better or worse? Current Story Arc: Harry Potter 1-Present
1. Prologue

Black clouds rolled over London, causing many to hurry home in case of a storm. The forecast had not mentioned any storms, but the clouds were there anyway. Anyone who was watching would have noted odd purple flashes in the clouds. It wasn't until around midday that something happened. A blast of purple lightning, thicker than any lightning seen beforehand, shot down from the clouds and blasted into the street, sending cars nearby flying and even exploding one. As fast as it had appeared, the lightning vanished, leaving a crater in the street. People from the buildings came out slowly, having heard the lightning crash and the cars exploding, and approached the edge of the crater cautiously.

"Someone's inside!" someone yelled, pointing inside the crater. A form, singed and completely naked, was laying at the center of the crater, smoking lightly and lying face down. Throwing aside all caution, a couple of men climbed down and grabbed the boy, obvious what with the male genitals, by his shoulders. When the two men grabbed him, a sphere of purple energy shot out and knocked them back. A woman on the street screamed when she saw this, and pulled out her phone, dialing the number for the emergency services.

Twenty minutes later an ambulance turned up and the paramedics got a stretcher out of the truck, climbing down the crater and approaching the boy. The two men that had tried earlier tried to warn them, but were dumbfounded when the paramedics pulled out thin sticks and _levitated_ the boy onto the stretcher! The two 'paramedics' carried the boy up the crater, and put him into the ambulance, before getting in and driving off. After they left, several men and women in blue robes appeared out of thin air with cracks and started waving their own sticks. Immediately the pedestrians eyes became glazed as the memories of the last hour were erased and replaced by a simple lightning storm striking a car. Before the pedestrians could shake their heads to clear the cobwebs, the men and women in the blue robes had already vanished.

Meanwhile, the 'ambulance' was heading down a street towards a shopping district, rather than towards the hospital. The ambulance turned a corner, and went down an alleyway towards the back of an old abandoned boutique store. They parked the ambulance, and got the boy out and wheeled him towards a metal door. One of the 'paramedics' pulled out his stick and tapped the doorknob before turning it and pushing the gurney in. Inside, rather than the dusty and old back room of a boutique, was a clean and spacious hallway filled with people in scrubs with the logo of a wand and needle crossing. The boy was wheeled into a room, and set down on a bed, and a couple of people started waving their 'wands' at the boy and muttering under their breath. The boy was quite short, and the doctors guessed that he was in his early teens. One of the wizards pulled back an eyelid and shone a light into his eye with his wand. The boy had blue eyes and the hair that wasn't burnt off was brown.

"This is odd" said one of the witches.

"What is?"

"The age detection spell says he was born... today" she said, looking at her wand in puzzlement.

"Are you sure you did it right? This boy can't be any older then thirteen." the man said, looking down at the boy. They had conjured a patient gown for the boy, and covered his modesty.

"I've been casting this spell for so long I could do it in my sleep, Garfield. According to magic itself this boy was born today!" the witch said shrilly, obviously miffed at being doubted. Garfield rolled his eyes and cast his own age detection spell, but it came up the same way.

"Well, this is quite the mystery. We'll ask him some questions when he wakes up" Garfield said, tapping his chin in thought. The other diagnostic spells worked properly, however the Core Detection Charm picked up a foreign energy surrounding the boy's magical core, which looked both juvenile and mature at the same time.

"Is it just me, or is this kid breaking several laws of magic at once?" asked the witch, who was named Isabella.

"It's not just you Izzy" Garfield said, frowning in thought. They left the boy to rest, with several alert wards surrounding the bed to inform them when he awoke.

The boy groaned as he came back to the world of the living. He strained his eyes, and they cracked open a little bit. The light hurt, so he clenched his eyes shut. He groaned in pain. It felt like electricity was surging through him. And through the air. It felt like there was a constant static in the air. He opened his mouth to call out, but all that came out was a rasp. It wasn't in vain, however as he heard a door slide open and footsteps.

"Well, John Doe, nice to see you've woken up." a woman's voice said. The boy frowned and tried to sit up. John Doe? That wasn't his name! His name was... was...

What _was _his name?

A slender hand pushed against the boy's chest, gently laying him back down.

"Now, now, little one. You can't be getting up. You were in a terrible accident. Just stay calm and tell me your name so I can send an owl to your parents" the woman said. Judging from her mannerisms and speech patterns, she was a nurse or a doctor, the boy concluded.

"W...w...wat...eerr" he rasped, his throat dry. The nurse/doctor/lady lifted his head up, and brought a glass to his lips. The boy drank greedily, feeling the water sooth his dry throat. With a gasp, he emptied the glass and sank onto the soft pillows.

"Thank you" he said, his voice deep and gravelly. The deepness of his voice startled the woman, what with how young he looked. The boy spent several minutes thinking, trying to piece together his identity.

"Can you tell me your name?" the woman asked again.

"I... I think it... I think its Chris. That's all I'm getting. I can't remember my last name. Where am I? What happened?" he asked.

"You're at St Mungos. You were struck by some kind of lightning. It's amazing you're alive. We were notified about you after the London Hospital got a call about a boy being struck by lightning and creating a 'force field'. We sent some Healers out to pick you up and bring you here" the nurse/doctor/woman said. Chris frowned, his eyes still closed.

_'Healers? St Mungos? London? What is she going on about? Now that I take the time to notice, she does have an English accent. Am I in Great Britain? How did that happen? Why is she acting as if we're in a Harry Potter movie?'_

"What's your name?" Chris asked.

"Isabella Swann. I'm a Healer here. Can you remember your age? Or when you were born?" she asked. Chris frowned as he thought about it. For some reason, he couldn't remember the year he was born, but he could remember his age and the day and month he was born.

"I can't remember the year, but I was born on the 30th of May. I'm twenty years old though" he said. The woman, unseen by Chris, blinked in shock. He looked like he was 13-14.

"Are you sure? You look like you're in your mid-teens" she said attentively.

"Damn baby face gene..." Chris muttered, without even realizing he did. He heard a noise as if someone was scribbling, and assumed that the 'Healer' was writing notes.

"Can you tell me the date dear?" asked Healer Swann gently. Chris racked his brain, and came up with a date.

"20th of June, 2015"

Isabella gasped, dropping her writing stationary. Chris was interested that he didn't hear the clatter of a pen or pencil. Was she using a quill as well? What was this place? Some kind of Harry Potter fan recreation?

While Chris was thinking, Isabella was reeling in her thoughts.

"That... that should be all, Chris. If you'll excuse me, I have errands I must run" Isabella said shakily, and retreated from the room. Chris frowned at this behavior, and started to open his eyes. The light was bright, but not as much as before. As he opened his eyes, anyone who was in the room would have noticed that while the out part of his iris was blue-grey, the center had a purple ring around the pupil. Sadly, though, Chris was the only one in the ward now.

Healer Isabella Swann walked down the hallway of St Mungo's and entered the staff room. Luckily, no one was there and she was free to shapeshift safely. 'Isabella' concentrated and her hair turned from the dusty grey to a vibrant pink, her face gained youth and narrowed and her eyes changed from blue to yellow. With a wave of her wand, the Healer's scrubs morphed into a weird sisters shirt, torn jeans, boots and spiked arm bands.

Nymphadora Tonks shook herself and grabbed some powder from above the fireplace, chucking it into the fire and saying clearly, "Number Twelve Grimmauld Place" before entering the green fire and vanishing. She reappeared in the parlor of the old ancestral home of the Blacks, and went to the dining room where the rest of the Order were waiting for her.

"Ah, Nymphadora. Have you word on our mysterious friend?" Albus Dumbledore asked, his eyes twinkling merrily. He sat at the end of the table, with the rest of the Order seated in front of him.

"Yes, his name is Chris, but he doesn't remember his last name. He says his birthday is on the 30th of May, but he cannot remember the year, and he claims to be twenty years old. When I commented on his young appearance, he muttered something about a 'baby face gene'. When I asked him what the date was, he told me it was the 20th of June, 2015." Tonks said, not even bothering to scowl at Dumbledore for using her hated first name.

The people at the table gasped at this information, and Dumbledore leaned forward, steeping his fingers with a thoughtful look on his wizened face.

"A time traveler, do you suppose?" he asked.

"Well, possibly. Another interesting fact is that when the real Isabelle Swann scanned the boy for his age, he came up as having been born today. His Magical core also appears to be both juvenile and mature at the same time, with a foreign energy surrounding it."

"That's impossible. Nothing can be juvenile and mature at the same time" Severus Snape scoffed.

"Impossible it may be, that's what came up when the spell was cast. Several different Healers tried the spell, as well as myself just to double check. It's almost as if Chris' magical core was formed _that day_. And... It's growing" she said.

This set off mutterings around the table. Nothing like this has ever been heard of. A spontaneous formation of a magical core was unheard of, and the only case of rapid growing of a Core only ever happened in mentally ill wizarding children, and many died from an explosion of magical energy before they hit their teens.

"How has he not exploded from the power?" asked Sirius Black, looking around at the others.

"That's what I think the foreign energy is. Somehow, it's acting like a Protego and is containing the power as it grows. I don't know who this boy is or how he got to this time, but I think we should keep an eye on him, and keep him somewhere safe. If You-Know-Who learned of this boy, he might try to either recruit him or kill him." Tonks said, a serious look upon her usual cheerful face. There were nods and mutters of agreement around the table.

"I may be able to pull some strings at the Ministry and have the boy named a Ward of Hogwarts until his memories are returned. Strictly speaking, he is old enough to be a legal adult, but what with his rapidly growing core and his apparent time travel, it would be best not to allow him to wander London too freely. Was there anything else you could determine from the boy, Nymphadora?" asked Dumbledore.

"Well, judging from his accent... I'd say he's Australian" Tonks said.

There was quiet in the room, and one of the Order members at the back muttered, "Bollocks"


	2. Pomfrey, Dumbledore, Time Shift & Snakes

Chris stayed at St Mungos for a week before he was transferred to Hogwarts and named a Ward of Hogwarts. In that time, Chris had become accustomed to the idea of living in the Harry Potter universe. He learned it was 1995 in this world, and when he heard the date he remembered he was born in 1995. Chris had managed to remember the name of the town he lived in, but either the maps the Healers had given him were outdated, or it didn't exist in this world.

He also learned that when he somehow entered this universe, he gained an already mature magical core. According to the Healers, he had a strange energy surrounding it, apparently protecting him from exploding while his core grows. Chris supposed this was a good thing. Even with his limited memory loss, he knew that exploding was generally a bad thing.

He was transferred to Hogwarts via a Portkey supplied by Dumbledore. He appeared in the Hospital Wing to his dismay, and was immediately allocated a bed by Madam Pomfrey, who looked a bit more portly than she was portrayed in the movies. She was obviously waiting for him, and didn't seem at all shocked by his patchy hair and purple rimmed pupils. Chris had noticed the eyes, and thought they were pretty cool.

Madam Pomfrey went through the same spells and such as the Healers, in order to make sure the Portkey had not affected him in any odd ways. She had no doubt heard about some spells not working properly with him, and after a few minutes concluded that the portkey wasn't killing him.

"Can I get you anything, dear?" she asked, smiling at him kindly. Chris thought for a minute, and ran his hand through his hair.

"Um, a mirror and a pair of scissors perhaps?" he asked. Madam Pomfrey looked confused, but summoned the mirror and conjured a pair of scissors for him. She watched in puzzlement as the boy used the scissors to chop at his hair, shortening the longer strands down to the newly grown hair. After a few minutes, all the hair was at an equal length.

"That should do until I can get it done properly" Chris muttered, handing the scissors and mirror back to Madam Pomfrey. The Healer looked at him curiously, before banishing the scissors and sending the mirror back to her office.

"Mr. Johnson," Madam Pomfrey said, Johnson being the last name that was chosen for Chris. He still couldn't remember his last name, and he refused to be called Smith, as it didn't clash well with his first name. "Professor Dumbledore is going to want to ask some questions concerning your origins. Would you be alright with that?"

"Yeah, I'll answer any questions I can. Maybe talking about it will spark some memories" Chris said, fluffing his pillow absentmindedly. Madam Pomfrey nodded and took out her wand. Chris watched in fascination as she waved her wand, muttering a spell under her breath and sent off a glowing silvery hummingbird, which vanished through the stone walls. After a few minutes, the doors to the hospital wing opened and an old man walked in. He was rather tall, with sparkling blue eyes behind half moon spectacles, a long white beard that could be easily tucked into his belt, and wore flowing robes of midnight blue decorated with stars that actually seemed to twinkle. He had a pointed hat on his head, and hanging from one of his pockets was an archaic watch.

It was Albus Dumbledore. The 105 year old wizard from the book series this world was based in. I could remember the book and characters, but no details. I know the main character is Harry Potter, and his friends are Ron Weasley and Hermione Granger, but any details about their lives eluded me. It was as if I had seen a name in a newspaper but never met them.

"Good day Mr. Johnson. My name is Albus Dumbledore, Headmaster of this fine school. I was hoping to ask you a few questions about you" he said, sitting down on a plush armchair that appeared rather suddenly behind him. Chris suddenly turned analytical, and narrowed his eyes slightly as he observed the situation.

Pomfrey had left as soon as Dumbledore appeared. The doors were shut and he could feel that there was some static around it, the feeling he had come to know as magic. The meaningless use of magic and the grandfatherly smile may be an attempt to sway him to his side. Chris knew there was some kind of Dark Wizard running around. Moldy-something. Chris decided to play along and keep an eye out for any hints of manipulation.

"Yeah, sure. I'll answer any I can" Chris said, making sure to be polite and look him directly in the eye.

"Good, good. Now, first off. Can you remember where you grew up? What town?" he asked.

"I remember a town called Sunraysia, in Australia. I checked the maps that St Mungos had, but I couldn't find it anywhere. It appears it doesn't exist here" Chris said, looking down sadly. He couldn't remember his family, but he knew that he loved people there. Family, friends, a girlfriend maybe. He didn't know.

"Ah yes, one of the Healers mentioned that. Perhaps when your memory comes back more, we can arrange an excursion to see if we can find Sunraysia?" Dumbledore said, smiling at Chris gently.

_'Grandfatherly smile, possibly faux promise to find my hometown. Slight manipulation, but nothing too major for me to react'_

"Perhaps." Chris said softly. There was a short silence until Dumbledore cleared his throat.

"In the hospital, one of the Healers said they heard you talking in your sleep. It looked like you were having a nightmare. This is normal in those who have suffered any kind of trauma. However, what you said in your dream is quite interesting, and in one case, alarming" Dumbledore paused here, and looked over his glasses at Chris. "In one of your dreams, you shouted 'Get to the cup, Cedric', Mr Johnson"

Chris was shocked. Was he dreaming of events from the books? How? He couldn't remember anything, but apparently he could dream it.

Dumbledore continued, ignoring the look of shock on the boy's face, "It is curious you would dream of something that happened last year. A murder that happened last year. Is there anything you wish to tell me?"

"Well... I lied when I said I have full amnesia. I remember some things. One of them being that where I come from, you and this place and St Mungos are all places and characters in a book series. I can't remember any details from the books, but I guess my subconscious does. I don't know any details past people's names and small things like the fact that your sticks are called Wands." Chris said, deciding that this information isn't very dangerous to give to Dumbledore. The man looked fascinated by this, stroking his beard.

"Ah yes, I have proposed the theory that all of creation is naught but a book, but it was debunked by my fellow Warlocks. I suppose I may have been correct, in a sense" Dumbledore said, chuckling softly.

"What's going to happen to me, Professor Dumbledore?" Chris asked, deciding to be polite and use his title. The man waved his hand airily.

"Please, Mr Johnson, you are a Ward of Hogwarts, you may call me either Albus or Dumbledore. As for what happens to you, you will be tutored and housed here at Hogwarts, and monitored for any dangerous peaking that may occur from your rapidly growing core. Myself and some trusted affiliates will be working on a way to return you to your world, in the meantime" Albus said.

Chris nodded in agreement. It sounded cool to be learning magic. But he needed a wand of his own, didn't he? When he voiced his concern, Albus smiled and handed Chris a wand. It was quite long, gnarled and old, with odd bumps up the length of it. It was obviously Dumbledores. As soon as Chris' hands touched the wood, a purple spark struck the wood and sent it spinning across the room. Chris stared in shock, while Dumbledore waved his hand and summoned it back into its holster.

"As you can see, it appears you cannot use a magical foci, however" Dumbledore said, noticing the downtrodden look on Chris' face, "what with the size of your magical core, it is entirely possible you may be able to do wandless magic"

Chris was shocked. When he heard Wandless Magic, he somehow knew that it was a big deal. As if someone had opened a chest, memories spilled into his head. They were fragmented, but he instantly knew that wands were used to channel magic. Wands were required because a wizard's core was too small to channel the amount of magic needed for wandless magic. The fact that his core was big enough to not require a wand was a big deal.

"Isn't that impossible, though?" asked Chris, looking at the aged wizard in concern. The old man smiled at him.

"Not impossible, merely improbable. Due to your entrance into our world, your magical core was given a jump start and is growing quite fast. Whereas you should have the core of a teenage male, you instead have the core of a fifty year old man. Wizards and witches tend to get stronger magically with age, you should know" Albus explained. Chris was silent for a moment.

"Does that mean my magical education will be different? I mean, wanded wizards probably use magic differently to wandless ones" Chris asked.

"Quite right. As wanded magic requires certain wand movements, you'll have to concentrate harder to obtain the same results. However, with wandless magic, incantations aren't always necessary. I'll explain more during our first lesson" Dumbledore explained. Chris nodded, and after a few minutes of idle chatting, Dumbledore said something about meeting with a ministry official and left him to his sleep. Weeks on, September 1st hit and Chris was excited for the students to arrive at the school. Staying at the school with no one to talk to but the staff was boring, and he was looking forward to meeting other kids his age. During the weeks before hand, he had been having small lessons with Dumbledore. He was about up to 3rd year in practical magic, though his theory was up to date. The reason why he was so behind was that he had to learn how to distance his spell work.

By distancing, a term coined by Albus, he meant that he was given a fake wand and had to learn how to make his spells appear as if they were coming out of the wand in order to blend in. Rather than his spells appearing in his palm, he made them form a few inches in front of his palm, roughly where the tip of his wand was.

Albus had explained that during school times, it would be best for Chris to refer to him as Professor, so as to blend in better. Also, he'd be Sorted into his house after the First Years.

Chris was already in the Great Hall with the staff when the rest of the school arrived. He was wearing a pair of black school robes with a red, yellow, blue and green shield behind a big H. According to Albus, it was spelled to change when he was sorted. He was seated at a small table just off to the side of the Staff Table, and when the first years sorting was finished, he'd be called forward to be sorted. Chris was out of sight when the school filed in, and he scanned the crowd interestingly. His eyes locked onto a pair of students, one bushy haired and female, and the other redheaded and male. The names Hermione and Ron popped into his head, and he noticed another girl with red hair walking with them. Ron's sister, Ginny if he was correct. There was also a dark haired boy with them, with green eyes and glasses. Harry Potter. That was his name.

Shortly after everyone was settled, Professor McGonagall brought in a stool and an old hat, and left to fetch the first years. Soon, Chris would be seated under that hat, and he would be sent to his new house. He was a bit nervous, as he wasn't sure where he'd turn up. If anything, the Hat would probably know him better then he knew himself at the moment.

After a bit, the doors opened and Professor McGonagall led a line of 30-ish eleven year olds, a lot of them looking a bit nervous. After scanning the first years, he noticed there was an equal number ratio of male to female. Interesting…

As Chris pondered, the brim of the hat opened wide and it began to sing.

"_I__n times of old, when I was new, _  
_And Hogwarts barely started, _  
_The founders of our noble school_  
_Thought never to be parted. _

_United by a common goal,_  
_They had the self-same yearning_  
_To make the world's best magic school_  
_And pass along their learning._

_"Together we will build and teach"_  
_The four good friends decided._  
_And never did they dream that they_  
_Might someday be divided._

_For were there such friends anywhere_  
_As Slytherin and Gryffindor?_  
_Unless it was the second pair_  
_Of Hufflepuff and Ravenclaw,_

_So how could it have gone so wrong?_  
_How could such friendships fail?_  
_Why, I was there, so I can tell_  
_The whole sad, sorry tale. _

_Said Slytherin, "We'll teach just those_  
_whose ancestry's purest."_  
_Said Ravenclaw, "We'll teach those who's_  
_Intelligence is surest."_

_Said Gryffindor, "We'll teach all those_  
_with brave deeds to their name."_  
_Said Hufflepuff, "I'll teach the lot_  
_and treat them just the same."_

_These differences caused little strife_  
_when first they came to light._  
_For each of the four founders had_  
_A house in which they might_

_Take only those they wanted, so,_  
_For instance, Slytherin_  
_Took only pure-blood wizards_  
_Of great cunning just like him._

_And only those of sharpest mind_  
_were taught by Ravenclaw_  
_While the bravest and the boldest_  
_Went to daring Gryffindor._

_Good Hufflepuff, she took the rest_  
_and taught them all she knew,_  
_Thus, the houses and their founders_  
_Maintained friendships firm and true._

_So Hogwarts worked in harmony_  
_for several happy years,_  
_but then discord crept among us_  
_feeding on our faults and fears. _

_The Houses that, like pillars four_  
_had once held up our school_  
_now turned upon each other and_  
_divided, sought to rule._

_And for a while it seemed the school_  
_must meet an early end._  
_What with duelling and with fighting_  
_and the clash of friend on friend._

_And at last there came a morning_  
_when old Slytherin departed_  
_and though the fighting then died out_  
_he left us quite downhearted._

_And never since the founders four_  
_were whittled down to three_  
_have the Houses been united_  
_as they once were meant to be._

_And now the Sorting Hat is here_  
_and you all know the score:_  
_I sort you into Houses_  
_because that is what I'm for._

_But this year I'll go further,_  
_listen closely to my song:_  
_though condemned I am to split you_  
_still I worry that it's wrong,_

_Though I must fulfil my duty_  
_and must quarter every year_  
_still I wonder whether sorting_  
_may not bring the end I fear._

_Oh, know the perils, read the signs,_  
_the warning history shows,_  
_for our Hogwarts is in danger_  
_from external, deadly foes_

_And we must unite inside her_  
_or we'll crumble from within_  
_I have told you, I have warned you..._  
_let the Sorting now begin."_

"When I call your name, you will come forward and put on the Sorting Hat. You will then be sorted into your house." McGonagall said, holding up a scroll.

"Alfredson, Joss" she called out. A small boy with mousy hair and wide aqua eyes stepped forward, visibly shaking. He put the hat on, and after a few seconds the brim opened and it shouted "GRYFFINDOR!"

The house decked out in Red and Gold clapped loudly and the boy ran to join the House of the Brave.

"Ansel, Pris" "GRYFFINDOR"

"Atkinson, Ashleigh" "RAVENCLAW"

"Audley, Shelly" "HUFFLEPUFF"

"Crouch, Lana" "SLYTHERIN"

"Dyson, Peretz" "HUFFLEPUFF"

"Evanson, Haydn" "GRYFFINDOR!"

"Fry, Erle" "HUFFLEPUFF"

"Garnett, Dan" "SLYTHERIN"

"Huxley, Melvin" "HUFFLEPUFF"

Joyner, Mariann joined Melvin in Hufflepuff, Léonide Leandres went to Slytherin, Clay and Jameson Lovell went to Gryffindor, Brooks Lynton went to Ravenclaw, Avery Mann went to Slytherin, Christina Masters, Antonia Mercerm and Arsenio Newport joined Brooks in Ravenclaw, Amity North became a Slytherin, Brittney Randall went to Hufflepuff, Priscilla Rider went to Ravenclaw, Shena Rollins went to Slytherin along with Vince Roydon, Ethelinda Scott joined Hufflepuff, Terry Stevens became a Slytherin, Wiley Thorne went to Hufflepuff, Jamie Thorn went to Ravenclaw (Chris at first thought they were related, but threw that aside when he noticed that one was dark skinned and the other was quite pale), And finally Rona Tinker went to Gryffindor and Zavanna Victorson was the last Slytherin.

Everybody looked ready to eat, when Dumbledore stood up.

"We have one more person to sort, though he will be joining the fifth years. He is an exchange student from Australia. Come forward Mr. Johnson" Dumbledore said. There was some grumbling in the crowd, though a great deal looked on interestingly as Chris stepped into sight. He gulped as he walked over to the stool, feeling quite foolish. Chris placed his hand over his fake wand, feeling a bit of comfort from it as the hat was placed on his head. Unlike the eleven year olds, the hat didn't fall over his eyes.

"_Hmmm, interesting. Very interesting. Even though I have observed your chats with the Headmaster, it is still a wonder to see proof of other universes in one's mind. But you're not here for that. Now… where to put you? You are quite brave, you'd have to be to deal with all that has happened to you, and you are quite knowledgeable. Very loyal to friends, and a tad bit manipulative, from what I can see… Hmmm, you have the markings of all houses, something I haven't seen since young Mister Potter. You seem fit for the same house I believed would suit Mister Potter, yet I see no qualms… well, better be… _SLYTHERIN!"

Chris blinked, and took the hat off his head. He looked down at his robes as the Hogwarts Coat of Arms vanished and was replaced by Green and Silver with a snake. He walked over to the Slytherin table, and sat down away from most of the unpleasant students. He was startled when a blonde haired boy sat down next to him, followed by a pair of large boys who looked like Neanderthals. Before the boy could speak, Dumbledore stood to address the school.

"To our newcomers," said Dumbledore in a ringing voice, his arms stretched wide and a beaming smile on his lips, "welcome! To our old hands - welcome back! There is a time for speech-making, but this is not it. Tuck in!"

There was an appreciative laugh and an outbreak of applause as Dumbledore sat down neatly and threw his long beard over his shoulder so as to keep it out of the way of his plate - for food had appeared out of nowhere, so that the five long tables were groaning under joints and pies and dishes of vegetables, bread and sauces and flagons of pumpkin juice.

Chris set to work filling his plate with chicken, mash potatoes and even some small meat pies, all of which he covered in thick gravy. The boy watched him interestingly, and cleared his throat.

"Malfoy, Draco Malfoy," he said, holding his hand out. Chris glanced at it, and took it, shaking it slowly.

"Chris Johnson. Nice to meet you" he said, his Australian accent noticeable amongst the sea of British ones.

"What brings you to Hogwarts?" asked Draco, filling his plate also. Chris noticed he stuck to steaks and pork, rather than chicken. He also ate plenty of vegetables, something that Chris can't stand to eat.

"I recently moved from Australia to live with my uncle after my folks died. They were caught in an attack on the Magical Parliament, and were killed in the crossfire. Since I had no other relatives in Australia, I was portkeyed over here and moved in with my uncle and his wife." Chris explained, this being the back-story that they had agreed on.

"So your parents were witch and wizard?" Draco asked, looking quite casual about the question. Chris knew about the bigotry and prejudice against those of muggle parentage.

"Well, Dad was a wizard, but mum was a muggle. She worked with Dad in Parliament on Muggle/Magical relations." Chris explained. Apparently, magical society in Australia was a bit more advanced than the UK, and there were quite a few magical inventions over there that rivaled muggle technology.

"Oh, so you're a half-blood? Well, at least you're not Muggleborn. After the feast I'll introduce you to the guys in our dorm. When entering a new country, it's best to make good contacts" Draco said. Chris blinked, that was oddly nice. Maybe Draco was just a dick towards Harry and his friends? _'I wonder if I could get Draco out of his father's grasp.'_

"Yeah, that would be cool. Anyone I should look out for?" Chris asked.

"In Slytherin, you'll be fine. We have to look after our own since most of the other houses hate us. Gryffindor is the worst, Ravenclaw is second worst, and Hufflepuff are too friendly for us to hate. Quite a few Slytherins have friends in Hufflepuff, and they're good study partners. The ones you want to look out for are the Weasley Twins. They're pranksters who mostly target us Slytherins. Jordan is their sidekick, and he often helps the twins out. Then there's the 'Golden Trio', Potter, Granger and Weasley. They hate Slytherins and never hesitate to blame us when something bad happens" Draco explained. Chris nodded slowly, digesting this. Something inside of him was telling me this was a clouded view of them, and that they weren't bad.

"Thanks for the tip, I'll be sure to watch out for them" Chris said, nodding in thanks.

When all the students had finished eating and the noise level in the Hall was starting to creep upwards again, Dumbledore got to his feet once more. Talking ceased immediately as all turned to face the Headmaster.

"Well, now that we are all digesting another magnificent feast, I beg a few moments of your attention for the usual start-of-term notices," said Dumbledore. "First-years ought to know that the Forest in the grounds is out-of-bounds to students - and a few of our older students ought to know by now, too." Chris noticed the old man smile towards the Gryffindor Table.

"Mr Filch, the caretaker, has asked me, for what he tells me is the four-hundred-and-sixty-second time, to remind you all that magic is not permitted in corridors between classes, nor are a number of other things, all of which can be checked on the extensive list now fastened to Mr Filch's office door.

"We have had two changes in staffing this year. We are very pleased to welcome back Professor Grubbly-Plank, who will be taking Care of Magical Creatures lessons; we are also delighted to introduce Professor Umbridge, our new Defence Against the Dark Arts teacher."

There was a round of polite but fairly unenthusiastic applause and Dumbledore continued, "Tryouts for the house Quidditch teams will take place on the –"

He broke off, looking enquiringly at Professor Umbridge. As she was not much taller standing than sitting, there was a moment when nobody understood why Dumbledore had stopped talking, but then Professor Umbridge cleared her throat, 'Hem, hem,' and it became clear that she had got to her feet and was intending to make a speech.

Dumbledore only looked taken aback for a moment, then he sat down smartly and looked alertly at Professor Umbridge as though he desired nothing better than to listen to her talk. Other members of staff were not as adept at hiding their surprise. Professor Sprout's eyebrows had disappeared into her flyaway hair and Professor McGonagall's mouth was pressed thinly together. Many of the students were smirking; this woman obviously did not know how things were done at Hogwarts.

"Thank you, Headmaster," Professor Umbridge simpered, "for those kind words of welcome."

Her voice was high-pitched, breathy and little-girlish and, again, Chris felt a powerful rush of dislike that he could not explain to himself; all he knew was that he loathed everything about her, from her stupid voice to her fluffy pink cardigan. She gave another little throat-clearing cough ('hem, hem') and continued.

"Well, it is lovely to be back at Hogwarts, I must say!" She smiled, revealing very pointed teeth. "And to see such happy little faces looking up at me!"

"Since when did they employ toads at Hogwarts?" Chris asked, causing a few people to snort slightly into their drinks.

"I am very much looking forward to getting to know you all and I'm sure we'll be very good friends!"

Students exchanged looks at this; some of them were barely concealing grins.

"My god... All that pink is giving my cavities!" Chris moaned, causing a few half-bloods to snicker, while the Purebloods looked confused.

Professor Umbridge cleared her throat again ('hem, hem'), but when she continued, some of the breathiness had vanished from her voice. She sounded much more businesslike and now her words had a dull learned-by-heart sound to them.

"The Ministry of Magic has always considered the education of young witches and wizards to be of vital importance. The rare gifts with which you were born may come to nothing if not nurtured and honed by careful instruction. The ancient skills unique to the wizarding community must be passed down the generations lest we lose them for ever. The treasure trove of magical knowledge amassed by our ancestors must be guarded, replenished and polished by those who have been called to the noble profession of teaching."

Professor Umbridge paused here and made a little bow to her fellow staff members, none of whom bowed back to her. Professor McGonagall's dark eyebrows had contracted so that she looked positively hawklike, and Chris distinctly saw her exchange a significant glance with Professor Sprout as Umbridge gave another little 'hem, hem' and went on with her speech.

"Every headmaster and headmistress of Hogwarts has brought something new to the weighty task of governing this historic school, and that is as it should be, for without progress there will be stagnation and decay. There again, progress for progress's sake must be discouraged, for our tried and tested traditions often require no tinkering. A balance, then, between old and new, between permanence and change, between tradition and innovation…"

"Someone stun her, please… I can't stand the conflicting speech!" Chris said, dropping his head onto the table with a clunk. The scene made a few students giggle, and the older students looked on disapprovingly. Draco gave Chris a raised eyebrow, though his lip did curl slightly.

"…because some changes will be for the better, while others will come, in the fullness of time, to be recognized as errors of judgement. Meanwhile, some old habits will be retained, and rightly so, whereas others, outmoded and outworn, must be abandoned. Let us move forward, then, into a new era of openness, effectiveness and accountability, intent on preserving what ought to be preserved, perfecting what needs to be perfected, and pruning wherever we find practices that ought to be prohibited."

She sat down. Dumbledore clapped. The staff followed his lead, though Chris noticed that several of them brought their hands together only once or twice before stopping. A few students joined in, but most had been taken unawares by the end of the speech, not having listened to more than a few words of it, and before they could start applauding properly, Dumbledore had stood up again.

"Thank you very much, Professor Umbridge, that was most illuminating," he said, bowing to her. "Now, as I was saying, Quidditch tryouts will be held…"

"Jesus Christ Almighty, that woman needs a cough drop or something" Chris said, facepalming slightly. After a bit, the speech was done and Dumbledore sent them off to bed.

"Come on Chris, I gotta lead the first years to the common room. You come too. First years! Over here!" Draco called down the table. The eight new students came over and stood nervously. Draco led them out of the hall along with a pug faced girl called Pansy Parkinson, and led the way down to the dungeons. As they walked down a spiral staircase off to the side of the hall, Chris noticed Harry Potter heading up the marble staircase by himself.

Chris followed the Slytherin Prefects into the dungeons where they stopped at a seemingly blank slab of wall. Looking closely, Chris could see a shadow on the wall shaped like a snake, and he could feel the static of magic that covered it.

"The password changes every fortnight. The new one is Myrdyn Emrys" Draco explained, the wall melting away when the password was spoken. The prefects led the eleven year olds and Chris into the common room, which was rectangular and long, with a warm fire at the end and several torches on the support pillars. There were plenty of comfy seats and couches strewn around the room, and off to the side was a book shelf and collection of tables for studying. Two doors led off on the left and right, and a third door stood on the left wall close to the entrance. It stood ajar, and inside Chris could see several cauldrons on tabletops.

"Welcome to the Slytherin Common Room. Boys Dormitories are off to the right, Girls to the left. The books are there for anyone to read, but due to an enchantment they cannot be taken from the common room. The potions lab is open to any students above 3rd year, and those under 3rd year must be accompanied by an older student unless given permission by the Head of House" Draco explained.

"Our Head of House, Professor Snape, will be coming to speak to you personally" Pansy said, her normally shrill voice softened when speaking to the young ones. At that moment, the door to the Common Room melted away again, and Severus Snape swooped into the room. Chris was reminded of a large bat, and stayed quiet as Snape spoke to them.

"Congratulations. You have been sorted into the House of the Cunning. Here, you are a family. And like families, you will fight. You will quarrel. But outside of his common room, you put all squabbles aside. The other houses dislike us, and thus we must watch each others backs. This house is the House of the Elite, and we must act like it. Make your house proud, and you will go far in life. Fail to do so and give Slytherin a bad name, and you will be punished. Severely. If you have any issues or problems settling in, my door is always open to Slytherin Students." Snape said, looking down on them with piercing eyes. Chris immediately avoided them, looking at his head of House's chest.

"You'd best be getting to your dorms." Snape said, before he turned with a swish of his cloak and walked out, barely slowing down as the entrance to the common room melted away.

"You heard the man, off to bed. You'll find your dorms easily enough, the doors are marked by your year" Pansy said, gesturing the four girls towards the left door. Draco did the same with the four boys and Chris, and after making sure the boys were in their dorm and not fighting, he led Chris to their dorm. They found the door marked with a silver 5, and Draco pressed his hand to it and unlocked it.

The dorm was quite tasteful, and was rectangular like the common room. The walls had rich wood paneling and a dark green carpet, and there were six beds lining the walls, along with six desks and six wardrobes. A window currently showed an illuminated view of under the lake, and as Chris watched a large squid swam by.

"That bed is yours, as it's new. It appears your trunk was delivered during the sorting. Say, do you have an owl?" asked Draco suddenly. Chris blinked.

"Uh, no. In Australia we use these things called Jump Stones. They're like a modified Portkey that delivers the letters and mail instantly" Chris explained. He'd pretty much spent 3 days absorbing the magical culture of Australia so his cover story would be solid.

"Huh, interesting. Do you have any to show?"

"Nah, they wouldn't let me bring it into the country. For some reason Wizarding Britain really doesn't like the newer magical inventions" Chris said. This was actually true. The Ministry was so corrupted it didn't allow any advanced magic from other countries. Some rubbish about revolutionary spells being too unstable for the economy.

That didn't stop him from learning some of the spells himself from a book that Albus had smuggled into Britain, for 'academic reasons'. A lot of the spells had Aboriginal roots, though a good many had Latin, Greek and German origins.

Just then the door opened and the other two boys who shared the room with Chris, Draco and the Neanderthal's walked in.

"So, you're the new kid eh?" said the black skinned boy. He had black hair that fell to his shoulders, and his face was quite aristocratic. "Name's Blaise Zabini, and this is Theodore Nott. Nice to meet you" Blaise said, holding his hand out. Chris took it and gave the other boy a firm shake, before offering his hand to Theodore. The other boy looked at his hand and sneered, before walking over to his bed.

"Don't recognize your surname" Nott said, opening his trunk and getting his pajamas out (green silk pajamas with a snake motif on the back).

"Well, you wouldn't, as I moved from Australia" Chris said, rolling his eyes and getting his own pajamas out (Just a pair of black boxers and a singlet).

"So are you a pureblood, halfblood or mudblood?" asked Nott, pulling his robe off and getting changed.

"I'm halfblood, though over in the Land Down Under, we don't classify people by their parentage or blood. We do the decent thing and define people by who they are and what they do" Chris said, throwing in a bit of a mocking tone. Nott glared at him, now in his pajamas and sat down on his bed.

"What do your parents do?" he asked, not sounding like he really cared. Chris assumed he was just trying to figure out if Chris was to be an ally or an enemy.

"My dad worked in the Magical Parliament as part of the Muggle/Magical Relations Department, and my mum helped him in that area. They're dead now, they got caught in an attack against the government building and were killed in the crossfire" Chris explained, climbing into bed.

"You're father worked with filthy muggles?" asked Nott in disgust, staring at Chris as if he was infected with some disease. The blue eyed reality traveler narrowed his eyes and glared at the other boy. He decided to be a little evil, and wandlessly used his magic to make his eyes glow slightly purple.

"Do not insult my father. The last person to insult my family lost the ability to have children. Insult my family again, and I will not hesitate to go one step further" Chris said calmly, his eyes flashing slightly with very word before the purple faded and he shook his head, "Anyway, I'm gonna get some shut-eye. Night!"

Chris then whipped the curtains around his bed, and pressed the rune carved on the bedpost that caused the curtains to harden as if they were stone, stopping anyone from opening them. He took his glasses off, placed them in the glasses case he'd gotten the other week and went to sleep.


	3. An Eventful Day

The next morning, Chris woke up when his pillow vibrated. He sat up, yawned and tapped the rune on the bedpost, causing the curtains to become cloth again and opened the curtains. He grabbed his glasses, and was about to step out of his bed when he felt a buzzing coming from the floor. He looked down, and noticed that the carpet seemed a little compressed around his bed. Checking the others weren't awake (Nott and Zabini were already gone, Crabbe and Goyle were snoring and Draco appeared to be in the bathroom) Chris summoned a bit of the Purple to his hand and lightly touched the compressed area of the carpet.

There was a crackle as whatever enchantment was put around his bed fizzled out of existence. Chris had learned soon after he was allowed to leave the hospital that the energy he had in his body, which he dubbed the Purple due to the colour, had a disabling effect on magic, despite the fact that it was protecting his body from exploding. He found this out after he touched a moving portrait and with a fizzle and crack it stopped moving. After about ten minutes the painting started moving again, and he was given an earful by the painted old lady.

Chris went about his morning routine, greeting Draco sleepily in the bathroom where the blonde was brushing his teeth. The bathroom was designed with five cubicles, five sinks and another room with shower stalls. While brushing his teeth, Chris learned about the basic school schedule, and asked about what his electives were. Chris replied that he had chosen Care of Magical Creatures, Ancient Runes and Arithmancy. When asked why he was doing three electives, Chris replied that he had asked to drop History. He then left the dumbstruck blonde boy who didn't know he could do that.

The blue and purple eyed boy was joined by Draco and his cronies, and they accompanied him to breakfast, where they sat as far away as possible from Nott. Chris explained that someone had tried to curse the area around his bed, but had obviously done a meagre job of it. Indicated by the shocked look on Nott's face, he had obviously set the trap and it was probably quite a dangerous one.

While they ate, Professor Snape came around with their timetables, which Chris accepted with a nod of thanks. While spooning cereal into his mouth, Chris unfolded his timetable and looked at what he had for the day.

"Huh, Arithmancy, double Potions, Ancient Runes and Defence against the Dark Arts. What've you got Draco?" asked Chris, folding his timetable back up and placing it in his robes pocket.

"History of Magic, double Potions, Ancient Runes and Defence against the Dark Arts. Crabbe and Goyle have the same classes." Draco said, glancing at his timetable and dishing some bacon onto his plate.

"Are they smart enough for Ancient Runes?"

"They can understand the basic practical side, but anything theory goes over their heads. I mostly just let them copy my work" Draco shrugged.

"Fair enough," Chris said, waiting for Draco to sip from his goblet, "Hey, check this out" he said, pulling his fake wand out and discreetly pointing it at Snape and Umbridge. He gathered his magic into the air in front of his wand, and whispered the switching spell, concentrating on the teachers outfits. With a flash of mauve light, Umbridge was suddenly wearing the strict Head of Slytherin's black robes, and Snape was now dressed in pink with a cardigan and a pink bow in his hair. Everyone laughed loudly, including Draco though he tried to hide it. Gryffindor table laughed the loudest, and Snape's face went white in anger as he stood and pretty much screamed "WEASLEYS!"

Chris felt a little bad as the red-headed twins jumped up and ran out of hall in terror, followed closely by an infuriated Snape in a skirt and high heels. The laughter of the crowd and shriek of Umbridge's fury as she joined in the chase, tripping over the taller man's black robes and wrinkling her nose at the smell of B.O and potion residue assaulted her nose, echoed in the hall. Chris glanced up at Albus, and noticed with a smirk the man was smiling amusedly with that godforsaken twinkle in his eye.

"Chris," said Draco, drawing Chris' attention. The blonde was trying to look at him with a stern expression, but his lips were quirking slightly at the end and his eyes were full of mirth.

"Draco, I have no idea what you are talking about" Chris said with a straight face, looking directly at the blonde. Draco snorted, and shook his head.

Arithmancy was similar to Maths, in that it used numbers and equations to easily understand how magic works. Unlike mundane Mathematics, Chris found it quite interesting and worked hard on it. During the last few weeks, he had been brought up to speed by Professor Vector, as he was missing two years of learning.

After the class, Chris went out to the courtyard with Draco, Crabbe and Goyle. He didn't mind Draco's company, but the two large boys felt more like bodyguards then friends, and that kind of made him feel uncomfortable. It was drizzling, and Chris tried to stay under the covered areas to avoid getting wet. Draco and his goons followed suit, and they found a dry spot to stand and chat until the bell rang for the next session.

"Downside to a school in Scotland. The bloody rain" Chris muttered, pulling his collar up to protect his neck from the wind.

"Yeah. Sometimes I wish father had sent me to Beauxbatons. It's quite warm in France, and we could easily afford it" Draco drawled, leaning against the stone wall and looking across the courtyard.

"Beauxbatons is that French school for magic isn't it?" the reality traveller asked.

"Yeah, one of the Big Three in Europe. Hogwarts School of Witchcraft and Wizardry, Beauxbatons Academy of Magic and Durmstrang Institute." Draco explained. His eyes were locked on three figures sitting underneath a covering, and Chris looked over as well, curious what had captured his roommate's attention. Harry Potter, Hermione Granger and Ron Weasley were sitting and conversing, until a fourth person, a Chinese girl he couldn't remember the name of, came over and started talking to Harry. Chris had to grab Draco's arm to stop him from walking over and starting something.

After a bit, the Chinese girl walked with in a huff, and the bell rung a few seconds later. Chris, Draco and his goons followed behind the Golden Trio, noticing with a smirk that the redhead and the bushy haired girl were arguing. Ron had obviously botched things up with Harry and the Chinese girl.

"Hey, is there a Chinese school of magic?" asked Chris suddenly, feeling a bit curious. Draco thought for a minute.

"Yeah, but it's in Japan. Mahoutokoro School of Magic, I think it is" The rich pureblood explained, just as they joined the queue at the Potions classroom, around the time that the door opened. Chris followed Draco to one of the tables on the left side of the classroom, sitting with Draco while Crabbe and Goyle took the table behind them.

"Settle down," said Snape coldly, shutting the door behind him.

There was no real need for the call to order; the moment the class had heard the door close, quiet had fallen and all fidgeting stopped. Snape's mere presence was usually enough to ensure a class's silence.

"Before we begin today's lesson," said Snape, sweeping over to his desk and staring around at them all, "I think it appropriate to remind you that next June you will be sitting an important examination, during which you will prove how much you have learned about the composition and use of magical potions. Moronic though some of this class undoubtedly are, I expect you to scrape an "Acceptable" in your OWL, or suffer my . . . displeasure."

His gaze lingered this time on Neville, who gulped. Chris noticed this and frowned slightly.

"After this year, of course, many of you will cease studying with me," Snape went on. "I take only the very best into my NEWT Potions class, which means that some of us will certainly be saying goodbye."

His eyes seemed to rest on Harry, and his lip curled.

"But we have another year to go before that happy moment of farewell," said Snape softly, "so, whether or not you are intending to attempt NEWT, I advise all of you to concentrate your efforts upon maintaining the high pass level I have come to expect from my OWL students.

"Today we will be mixing a potion that often comes up at Ordinary Wizarding Level: the Draught of Peace, a potion to calm anxiety and soothe agitation. Be warned: if you are too heavy-handed with the ingredients you will put the drinker into a heavy and sometimes irreversible sleep, so you will need to pay close attention to what you are doing. The ingredients and method –" Snape flicked his wand "- are on the blackboard –" (they appeared there) "- you will find everything you need –" he flicked his wand again "- in the store cupboard –" (the door of the said cupboard sprang open) "- you have an hour and a half . . . start."

Chris examined the chalkboard, and quickly went about collecting the ingredients needed for this potion. He'd done tutoring over the last few weeks with Snape, and the man had conceded that Chris had some basic skill in Potions, and was good enough at measuring and timing to be able to brew some intermediate potions. This would be the first time he attempted anything this fiddly. The ingredients had to be added to the cauldron in precisely the right order and quantities; the mixture had to be stirred exactly the right number of times, firstly in clockwise, then in anti-clockwise directions; the heat of the flames on which it was simmering had to be lowered to exactly the right level for a specific number of minutes before the final ingredient was added.

"A light silver vapour should now be rising from your potion," called Snape, with ten minutes left to go.

Chris' potion looked okay, though the silver vapour looked a little on the dark side. Draco's was perfect, and there seemed to be vivid green smoke skulls rising from Crabbe and Goyle's cauldrons. Chris looked around to examine the rest of the classroom, mainly the Gryffindor side of the room. Harry's cauldron was issuing copious amounts of dark grey steam; Ron's was spitting green sparks. Seamus Finnegan was feverishly prodding the flames at the basis of his cauldron with the tip of his wand, as they seemed to be going out. The surface of Hermione's potion was a shimmering mist of silver vapour, and as Snape swept by he looked down his nose at it without comment, meaning he didn't have anything to comment on.

At Harry's cauldron, however, Snape stopped, and looked down at it with a horrible smirk on his face.

"Potter, what is this supposed to be?"

The other Slytherins at the front of the class all looked up eagerly; they loved hearing Snape taunt Harry.

"The Draught of Peace," said Harry tensely.

"Tell me, Potter," said Snape softly, "can you read?"

Draco laughed next to Chris.

"Yes, I can," said Harry.

"Read the first line of the instructions for me, Potter."

Harry squinted at the blackboard.

"'Add powdered moonstone, stir three times counter-clockwise, allow to simmer for seven minutes then add two drops of syrup of hellebore'"

A look of comprehension was visible on Harry's face, and Chris felt a little sympathetic for the guy.

"Did you do everything on the third line, Potter?"

"No," said Harry quietly.

"I beg your pardon?"

"No," said Harry, more loudly. "I forgot the hellebore"

"I know you did, Potter, which means that this mess is utterly worthless. Evanesce."

The contents of Harry's potion vanished; he was left standing foolishly beside an empty cauldron.

"Those of you who have managed to read the instructions, fill one flagon with a sample of your potion, label it clearly with your name and bring it up to my desk for testing," said Snape. "Homework: twelve inches of parchment on the properties of moonstone and its uses in potion-making, to be handed in on Thursday."

Chris poured his potion into a flagon and labelled it clearly with his name, before bringing it to the front and handing it in to Snape. There was a bit of panic as when Goyle poured his into his flagon, the container shattered and his robes caught on fire. Chris noticed that Harry had left as soon as the bell went, and slipped off to catch up with the guy.

"Hey! Potter!" Chris yelled out, knowing that in Hogwarts people only called each other by their first name if they knew them. Harry turned around, and blinked when he saw the Slytherin running up to him.

"Can I help you?" asked Harry, looking quite guarded.

"Yeah, just wanted to make sure you were alright after that little spiel" Chris said, breathing hard from the sprint. The Gryffindor boy looked shocked at that.

"Yeah, I'm fine. Why do you care? I'd figure you would have loved that little show" Harry snapped, frowning at him. Chris chuckled a little, shaking his head.

"I'm not like the other Slytherins. I'm a half-blood. Muggle mum. And seriously, the way Snape acted was kind of cruel. I'm Chris, by the way. Chris Johnson, I was sorted last night" Chris said, holding out his hand. Harry looked at his hand, before shaking it.

"Oh yeah, now I remember. The speech by Umbridge kind of put you out of my mind" Harry said.

"That's alright, I was bored out of my mind. I was getting ready to start a riot just so I didn't have to sit through it any longer." Chris said, grinning. Harry laughed at this, and they started walking to lunch. Harry invited Chris to come sit at the Gryffindor table to eat.

"Nah, better not. Don't want to get mauled by the lions," Chris said in a joking manner, "but maybe we can hang out sometime outside of class? The Gamekeeper Hagrid invited me to tea when he gets back from wherever he vanished from, you can come along"

"Do you know Hagrid?"

"Yeah, I came to the school a few weeks before term so I could meet the professors and get a feel of the place. Hagrid showed me the magical creatures they've got here and would often have me for tea" Chris said. They got to the Great Hall, and he looked up to notice that it was very wet and muggy. Rain fell down upon the tables, vanishing before they passed the floating candles, and droplets of rain hammered the windows lining the hall.

Chris felt that some people were approaching them, and decided to make his leave.

"Anyway, I gotta head off. The lions are descending. See you around Potter" Chris said, smiling at him and slipping off. As he left, he could hear Ron asking what the 'Slimy Slytherin' wanted. Chris shook his head, and sat down at his table.

After lunch, he had Ancient Runes, which was about the language of magic, and how by inscribing certain runes on a piece of paper or tablet or whatever, and feeding with magic, different things could happen. Basically, by combining different runes, you can do things that you can't do with a spell, though they weren't as portable as spells. Draco was in the class, but he was sitting away from Chris this class.

At the end of the class, he was given homework to write a Runic Dictionary and come up with five uses for three runes highlighted. Chris complained good-naturedly with Draco, despite not finding anything wrong with the course work give, and headed to their next class, which was Defence Against the Dark Arts with the Gryffindors and that Umbridge woman.

When they entered the Defence Against the Dark Arts classroom they found Professor Umbridge already seated at the teachers desk, wearing the fluffy pink cardigan of the night before and the black velvet bow on top of her head. Chris was again reminded forcibly of a large fly perched unwisely on top of an even larger toad.

The class was quiet as it entered the room; Professor Umbridge was, as yet, an unknown entity and nobody knew how strict a disciplinarian she was likely to be.

"Well, good afternoon!" she said, when finally the whole class had sat down.

A few people mumbled 'good afternoon' in reply.

"Tut, tut," said Professor Umbridge. "That won't do, now, will it? I should like you, please, to reply "Good afternoon, Professor Umbridge". One more time, please. Good afternoon, class!"

"Good afternoon, Professor Umbridge," they chanted back at her.

"There, now," said Professor Umbridge sweetly. "That wasn't too difficult, was it? Wands away and quills out, please."

Chris hadn't even taken his wand out, not finding any use in doing so. It was fake anyway. He got his notebook and pen out, ignoring the odd and scathing looks from the Slytherins. Professor Umbridge opened her handbag, extracted her own wand, which was an unusually short one, and tapped the blackboard sharply with it; words appeared on the board at once:

_Defence Against the Dark Arts  
A Return to Basic Principles_

"Well now, your teaching in this subject has been rather disrupted and fragmented, hasn't it?" stated Professor Umbridge, turning to face the class with her hands clasped neatly in front of her. "The constant changing of teachers, many of whom do not seem to have followed any Ministry-approved curriculum, has unfortunately resulted in your being far below the standard we would expect to see in your OWL year.

"You will be pleased to know, however, that these problems are now to be rectified. We will be following a carefully structured, theory-centred, Ministry-approved course of defensive magic this year. Copy down the following, please.'

She rapped the blackboard again; the first message vanished and was replaced by the 'Course Aims'.

Understanding the principles underlying defensive magic.

Learning to recognise situations in which defensive magic can legally be used.

Placing the use of defensive magic in a context for practical use.

For a couple of minutes the room was full of the sound of scratching quills on parchment. When everyone had copied down Professor Umbridge's three course aims she asked, "Has everybody got a copy of Defensive Magical Theory by Wilbert Slinkhard?"

There was a dull murmur of assent throughout the class.

"I think we'll try that again," said Professor Umbridge. "When I ask you a question, I should like you to reply, "Yes, Professor Umbridge", or "No, Professor Umbridge". So: has everyone got a copy of Defensive Magical Theory by Wilbert Slinkhard?"

"Yes, Professor Umbridge," rang through the room.

"Good," said Professor Umbridge. "I should like you to turn to page five and read "Chapter One, Basics for Beginners". There will be no need to talk."

Professor Umbridge left the blackboard and settled herself in the chair behind the teacher's desk, observing them all closely with those pouchy toad's eyes. Chris turned to page five of his copy of Defensive Magical Theory and started to read.

It was desperately dull, quite as bad as listening to Professor Binns. He felt his concentration sliding away from him; he had soon read the same line half a dozen times without taking in more than the first few words. Several silent minutes passed. Next to him, Blaise Zabini was absent-mindedly turning his quill over and over in his fingers, staring at the same spot on the page. Chris looked across the room and received a surprise to shake him out of his torpor. Hermione had not even opened her copy of Defensive Magical Theory. She was staring fixedly at Professor Umbridge with her hand in the air. He knew, from random flashes of memory, that Hermione never left a book unopened. And the fact she had disobeyed a teacher was extremely odd.

After several more minutes had passed, however, Chris was not the only one watching Hermione. The chapter they had been instructed to read was so tedious that more and more people were choosing to watch Hermione's mute attempt to catch Professor Umbridge's eye rather than struggle on with 'Basics for Beginners'.

When more than half the class were staring at Hermione rather than at their books, Professor Umbridge seemed to decide that she could ignore the situation no longer.

"Did you want to ask something about the chapter, dear?" she asked Hermione, as though she had only just noticed her.

"Not about the chapter, no," said Hermione.

"Well, we're reading just now," said Professor Umbridge, showing her small pointed teeth. "If you have other queries we can deal with them at the end of class."

"I've got a query about your course aims," said Hermione.

Professor Umbridge raised her eyebrows.

"And your name is?"

"Hermione Granger," said Hermione

"Well, Miss Granger, I think the course aims are perfectly clear if you read them through carefully" said Professor Umbridge in a voice of determined sweetness.

"Well, I don't," said Hermione bluntly. "There's nothing written up there about using defensive spells."

There was a short silence in which many members of the class turned their heads to frown at the three course aims still written on the blackboard.

"Using defensive spells?" Professor Umbridge repeated with a little laugh. "Why, I can't imagine any situation arising in my classroom that would require you to use a defensive spell, Miss Granger. You surely aren't expecting to be attacked during class?"

Chris felt a tingle and quick as a flash flicked a silencing spell at Ron under the table. The boy opened his mouth and yelled something, but no noise came out and it went unnoticed.

_'Huh? Um, why did I do that? Did I know that Ron was gonna say something? I feel like if I don't ask a question, the wrong person will and shit will hit the fan. I'm either a Seer, or I'm getting flashes of events as they happen in the book...'_

Putting aside the confusing events, Chris raised his hand politely, and Professor Umbridge looked at him with a sweet smile.

"Yes? Mr..."

"Johnson, ma'am, Chris Johnson. While it's true that we won't be attacked in the classroom, wouldn't it be prudent to practise defensive spells in the likelihood of any attacks outside of school? As we all know, underage magic is allowed in self defence against another magic being or person" Chris said, keeping his tone respectful and looking the toad-woman in the eye.

"Why yes, that is correct Mr. Johnson, and chances to use defensive magic will arise in the future, but for the time being we will be focusing on theory," said Professor Umbridge in a sweet voice, "however, I cannot think of any situation that would call for defensive magic outside of school"

"Well, the world outside is not a safe one, ma'am. For example, muggers and thieves are likely to attack a student in locations like Diagon Alley, Hogsmeade or even the back alleys of the Muggle World. And I heard that there was a Dark Lord running around a few years ago." Chris said.

"You-Know-Who is dead, young man. You're in no danger of him"

"Yes, but what about his followers? The Ministry couldn't have gotten all of them, and there is always risk of un-marked supporters of You-Know-Who continuing You-Know-Who's work."

"Enough, young man. None of you are in any danger of You-Know-Who or his followers. He was killed, and his supporters arrested by the DMLE. Now, we will focus on class!" Umbridge snapped, her sweet voice suddenly gone and now hard as concrete. Chris blinked and leaned back in shock, and he wasn't the only one. No one else wanted to tempt Umbridge, and Chris figured himself lucky he wasn't given detention.

The class quickly fell back into the stupor, and Chris failed to notice the speculative look that Hermione was giving him, and the sight of Ron desperately trying to speak while Silenced. Chris would remember to remove it… in a few hours.


	4. Curiousities and Classes

The following day dawned just as leaden and rainy as the previous one.

"Double Charms and double Transfiguration today" Chris said, yawning widely as he poured himself a coffee. He discovered his love for coffee after trying a cup a week after arriving in London.

Double Charms was succeeded by double Transfiguration. Professor Flitwick and Professor McGonagall both spent the first fifteen minutes of their lessons lecturing the class on the importance of OWLs.

"What you must remember," said little Professor Flitwick squeakily, perched as ever on a pile of books so that he could see over the top of his desk, "is that these examinations may influence your futures for many years to come! If you have not already given serious thought to your careers, now is the time to do so. And in the meantime, I'm afraid, we shall be working harder than ever to ensure that you all do yourselves justice!"

They then spent over an hour revising Summoning Charms, which according to Professor Flitwick were bound to come up in their OWL, and he rounded off the lesson by setting them their largest ever amount of Charms homework.

It was the same, if not worse, in Transfiguration.

"You cannot pass an OWL," said Professor McGonagall grimly, "without serious application, practice and study. I see no reason why everybody in this class should not achieve an OWL in Transfiguration as long as they put in the work." Neville made a sad little disbelieving noise. "Yes, you too, Longbottom," said Professor McGonagall. "There's nothing wrong with your work except lack of confidence. So… today we are starting Vanishing Spells. These are easier than Conjuring Spells, which you would not usually attempt until NEWT level, but they are still among the most difficult magic you will be tested on in your OWL."

She was quite right; Chris found the Vanishing Spells horribly difficult. By the end of a double period, neither he nor Draco had managed to vanish the snails on which they were practising, though Draco said hopefully he thought his snails shell had paled. Hermione, on the other side of the room, had successfully vanished her snail on the third attempt, earning her a ten-point bonus for Gryffindor from Professor McGonagall. She was the only person not given homework; everybody else was told to practise the spell overnight, ready for a fresh attempt on their snails the following afternoon.

During lunch, Chris dropped by the library to pick up a book to read up about Moonstones. Chris spotted Ron and Harry in the library franticly looking for information for the Potions homework. Chris gave Harry a short wave, who returned it with a small smile. Ron scowled at Chris suspiciously, and the blue eyed boy rolled his eyes.

After dropping the book off at his dorm room for further reading, the bell rang for the end of lunch and the start of the next session, and Chris left the castle to go down to Hagrids hut for his first CoMC class.

Chris was walking behind a crowd of Slytherins, who seemed to orbit a certain blonde boy. Draco was telling a joke, to which a lot of the Slytherins sniggered while glancing at someone in front of them. The day had become cool and breezy, and as he walked down the sloping lawn towards Hagrid's cabin on the edge of the Forbidden Forest, he felt the occasional drop of rain on his face. Professor Grubbly-Plank stood waiting for the class some ten yards from Hagrid's front door, a long trestle table in front of her laden with twigs.

"Everyone here?" barked Professor Grubbly-Plank, once all the Slytherins and Gryffindors had arrived. "Let's crack on then. Who can tell me what these things are called?"

She indicated the heap of twigs in front of her. Hermione's hand shot into the air. Behind her back, Draco did a buck-toothed imitation of her jumping up and down in eagerness to answer a question. Pansy Parkinson gave a shriek of laughter that turned almost at once into a scream, as the twigs on the table leapt into the air and revealed themselves to be what looked like tiny pixie-ish creatures made of wood, each with knobbly brown arms and legs, two twiglike fingers at the end of each hand and a funny flat, barklike face in which a pair of beetle-brown eyes glittered.

"Oooooh!" said Parvati and Lavender, thoroughly irritating Chris. He usually tried not to judge people, but that squeal gave him a headache.

"Kindly keep your voices down, girls!" said Professor Grubbly-Plank sharply, scattering a handful of what looked like brown rice among the stick-creatures, who immediately fell upon the food. "So - anyone know the names of these creatures? Mr Johnson?"

"Bowtruckles," said Chris. "They're tree-guardians, usually live in wand-trees, and they come in different colours depending on what tree they are born from"

"Five points to Slytherin," said Professor Grubbly-Plank. "Yes, these are Bowtruckles, and as Mr. Johnson rightly says, they generally live in trees whose wood is of wand quality. Anybody know what they eat?"

"Woodlice," said Hermione promptly, glancing at Chris with a warning look on her face. Wow, she is really competitive at this. "But fairy eggs if they can get them."

"Good girl, take five points for your house... So, whenever you need leaves or wood from a tree in which a Bowtruckle lodges, it is wise to have a gift of woodlice ready to distract or placate it. They may not look dangerous, but if angered they will try to gouge at human eyes with their fingers, which, as you can see, are very sharp and not at all desirable near the eyeballs. So if you'd like to gather closer, take a few woodlice and a Bowtruckle - I have enough here for one between three - you can study them more closely. I want a sketch from each of you with all body-parts labelled by the end of the lesson."

Chris surged forwards with the class, and collected a handful of the woodlice and a Bowtruckle. He carried the little creature over to a small area off to the side, and held the handful of woodlice out to the Bowtruckle. It trilled happily in a voice that sounded like wind going through leaves, and shoved its face into the woodlice. Chris laughed, and settled the Bowtruckle on the ground before pulling a notepad out of his bag and sketching the magical tree guardian.

Chris kept a small routine going of handing the Bowtruckle a woodlice, which then made it stay still so it could eat, giving Chris a chance to sketch it. After a bit, the Bowtruckle seemed to realize what Chris was doing, and to his amusement started to pose for him. There was an outcry, which caused both student and magical creature to jump in fright. Chris quickly gave the Bowtruckle some woodlice to calm it down before it zipped off, and looked over to where the noise came from.

Harry was clutching a cut on his hand, and glaring at a laughing Draco and his cronies. Chris sighed, and wondered if it was worth the effort making Draco into a decent person. When the bell echoed distantly over the grounds, Chris folded his finished Bowtruckle picture and handed it to Grubbly-Plank before marching off to Arithmancy.

On the way to dinner, Chris was listening closely as Draco explained a complex arithmetic algorithm they had to solve and rearrange to achieve a certain effect. Arithmancy was one of the first steps towards spell creation, something that Chris was VERY interested in. On the way to the hall, Chris spotted some guy in a black coat and wide hat trying, and failing, to sneak stealthily down the hallway that the Hufflepuffs usually go down.

'_Probably one of the Weasley Twins friends having a laugh' _Chris thought, mentally shrugging and going back to the conversation with Draco about magical maths.

Dinner came and everyone was enjoying their meals. Everything was happening as per normal, but halfway through the meal, something happened to Umbridge. She had stopped eating, staring at her plate in horror, and standing up abruptly and screaming in horror and fear. The entire hall jumped collectively, and stared up at her in shock and varying states of fear as the woman's eyes darted around the hall and she stumbled back, as if trying to escape invisible attackers.

The staff got up to assist her, but their movements only worked to make Umbridge panic even more, as if she didn't recognise her colleagues. It got so bad, that Snape pulled out his wand and stunned her, ending the noise. Dumbledore said something quietly to McGonagall, who nodded and hurried out of the hall, probably fetching Madam Pomfrey.

"What the hell was that?" asked Chris, looking at Draco. The blonde boy shrugged, his eyes wide in shock.

"You think someone poisoned her?" the blonde asked.

"I dunno, how would someone manage that? Aren't the meals cooked and prepared by the House Elves?" asked Chris, watching as Pomfrey entered the Hall and levitated a limp and snoring Dolores Umbridge, who's annoying black bow was now hanging limply from her hair. Chris snickered as Pomfrey "accidentally" bumped the toad woman's head against the door frame.

"It's a mystery... Ah well, if it's that old cow, it doesn't bother me" Draco said, smirking slightly and going on with his meal. Chris decided to follow the blonde's example.

Over the next few days, very little happened in regards to Chris. He'd heard over the Hogwarts grapevine that Umbridge was still recovering from her 'freak-out'. According to some doubtful sources, Madam Pomfrey had found traces of an unknown substance in Umbridge's stomach after pumping it. Chris continued with his work, and struck up a few chats with Harry when he was alone. Chris tried to help him out by letting him vent to him, and usually had to silence a classroom so that his angry shouting didn't draw unwanted attention. Once his anger was drained, Harry was much more open to talking about things, whether they be Quidditch, magic, how much they hate Umbridge ("I thought you liked her?" said Harry. "Pfft! Yeah right, I was only being nice to her so she didn't blow her top and give someone detention" Chris replied, grinning) and so on.

By the time Friday rolled around, Chris and Harry were on first name basis, and would often nod to each other in the hallways. He took great pride in keeping up with his homework, and even gave Draco's cronies some help in their work, which shocked them quite severely. Chris was becoming known as the Friendly Slytherin, and while a few of the older Snakes jeered him for this, Chris took it in good humour and just said, "You can catch more flies with honey then with vinegar" effectively shutting them up.

Saturday morning came, and Chris decided he'd take a morning stroll to the Owlery and back, to clear his head. He decided rather than his robes, he'd wear his t-shirt, black coat, jeans, sneakers and green and silver scarf. He also wore a beanie, and with that done, he set out on his walk. As he climbed the stairs, he heard voices inside. Three of them. He recognised two of them. Harry and Filch. The other was a girl's voice.

"I have my sources," said Filch in a self-satisfied hiss. "Now hand over whatever it is you're selling."

"I can't, it's gone" said Harry.

"Gone?" said Filch

"Gone," said Harry calmly.

"How do I know you haven't got it in your pocket?"

"Because…"

"I saw him send it," said the girls voice angrily. Chris came up to the door, and watched the proceedings calmly, leaning against the doorframe.

Filch rounded on her.

"You saw him?"

"That's right, I saw him," she said fiercely. Chris liked this girl's spirit.

There was a moment's pause in which Filch glared at Cho and Cho glared right back, then the caretaker turned on his heel and shuffled over towards the door, glaring suspiciously towards Chris, who smiled and gave him a mock salute. Filch turned back at the last second, the looked back at Harry.

"If I get so much as a whiff of a Dungbomb…"

"It'll be an improvement on your B.O" Chris quipped, grinning cheekily. Filch gave a growl, and stomped off down the stairs. Mrs Norris gave a last longing look at the owls and followed him.

Harry and the girl looked at Chris, the Boy-Who-Lived relieved and the Chinese girl guarded. Chris held up his hands.

"Relax, I come unarmed!" he said sarcastically. "Hey Harry. Any problems?"

"Nope, just sending off a letter and getting hassled by caretakers. What about you Chris?"

"Just on my morning walk," Chris said, turning to the girl. "The name is Chris Johnson, also known as the Friendly Slytherin, at your service"

He bowed with a flourish, bring an amused smile to the girls face.

"Cho Chang, Ravenclaw Seeker. Charmed" she said, doing a mock curtsy. Chris noticed that Harry was scowling at him, and mentally chuckled. Looks like Harrykins has a crush. Chris backed out of the room when Cho turned her attention on Harry, winking at him and flashing the boy a thumbs up.

"Ahem, thanks for… you know… helping out" Harry said.

"No problem," said Cho, finally fixing the parcel to the barn owls let, her face slightly pink. "You weren't ordering Dungbombs, were you?"

"No," said Harry.

"I wonder why he thought you were, then?" she said as she carried the owl to the window.

"He's a hateful old bugger!" Chris called out from behind the door. The two stared at the door for a minute, before Chris spoke up again. "Right! Rhetorical question! Shutting up now!"

Chris left the two awkward teens alone, and headed back to the castle for breakfast, feeling rather pleased. There was something about young love that made Chris smile. He still didn't know whether it was amusement at how awkward it was, or half-faded memories of when he went through it… maybe a bit of both?

He sat down at the Slytherin table, catching sight of a beaming Cho Chang at the Ravenclaw table. He didn't need to be a mind reader to know she was thinking about Harry Potter. As he arrived, he found Draco reading the paper and spooning cereal into his mouth.

"Hey, can I read that when you're done?"

"Sure, nearly finished anyway"

"Thanks"

Chris got his breakfast ready as he waited, and chewed his buttered toast slowly, enjoying his morning meal. After a minute, Draco closed the paper and handed it to Chris, who thanked him.

He opened it and read through it, though there was nothing interesting. Apparently some bloke called Sirius Black was sighted in London, (the name rang a bell) and there was some kind of robbery or trespassing at the Ministry of Magic.

Chris ate his breakfast and decided he'd head to the library and do some reading, and maybe practise spells with Draco later. He brought it up with Draco, who said that he was planning on going to the Gryffindor Quidditch Practise to heckle them, but decided that he needed more practise with his spells.

He joined Chris after telling Crabbe and Goyle to go do something else, and they went to the library.

"You know, I was thinking. What exactly are the limitations to Runes? I mean, from what I've seen so far, we could probably use Runes to make magical devices that can rival and even surpass Muggle Technology" Chris said, looking thoughtful.

Draco snorted.

"Our spells already surpass muggles."

"Um, Draco? What is the most recent muggle invention that you know?"

"Those tellyfone things are getting kind of popular. And I also know about flintlock pistols. Dad has one that he modified with magic a while back as a pet project." Draco said, looking confident that these were indeed the latest inventions of the Muggles. Chris gaped at the boy.

"Um… Draco? Flintlocks were first invented in the 1600s, and the telephone was invented in the 1800s. The magical community is hundreds of years behind the muggles." Chris explained. Draco was surprised.

"Really? But… wizards are superior to muggles. We have magic and they don't" Draco said.

"Draco, have you ever been in the muggle world? Yes, they don't have magic, but Muggles have managed to invent so many ways of bettering their lives without it. Sure, we can apparate, use Floo Powder and Portkeys, but without these in their lives, Muggles can reach the same distances, and even more, in less time. They may not be instantaneous, but they can be quick. Take example of the Lockheed SR-71 Blackbird, a jet plane that broke the flight speed record in 1976 at 3,500 km/h. Now, for reference, the distance between Hogwarts and London is around 750 km. The train from Kings Cross takes about 9 hours to get here. Using the Blackbird, we could get to London in 10-20 minutes, tops." Chris finished explained. Draco was staring at him with his eyes wide and his mouth hanging open.

"Bu...But… that's impossible! Not even brooms can fly that quickly! You must be lying!" Draco accused, pointing at his friend in anger. Chris casually knocked the finger away.

"You really think I could come up with those numbers off the top of my head? I'm not a Ravenclaw. And now we come up to the Flintlock pistol you mentioned. Flintlocks used flint and gunpowder to fire the bullet, which is more like a pellet, forward. While effective, the newer guns are much more quick, clean and deadly. The basic weapon used in the British Armed Forces at the moment is the SA80, a selective fire, gas operated assault rifle. This weapon can fire 775 bullets per minute. In the time that you pull out your wand, you'd be able to go to a Halloween Party as a block of Swiss cheese" Chris said, looking at Draco. He was pale, and shaking slightly.

"My god. The Muggles could kill us if they wanted to!" he said.

"They could, but they wouldn't. Not unless you threatened them. Muggles aren't the angry, threatening muggles that caused the Statute of Secrecy to form anymore. While some exist, many would be fascinated by your powers. What I'm getting at with this, is that wizardkind have hidden behind their spells and wards for so long we have completely missed the world evolving around us while we stayed where we were" Chris explained. Draco looked thoughtful, and a bit of colour was returning to his face.

"Maybe your right... but what do you mean by 'magical devices that can rival and even surpass Muggle Technology'?"

"I mean that we could theoretically create magical counterparts for different kinds of technology. For example, by shrinking the Floo Powder Network into something small like a lighter, we could have a handheld way of reaching people, negating the need for owls. Broomsticks? Use the same enchantments on something larger and we could have a passenger aircraft for travelling. With runes and magic, we could even do things that are only possible in science fiction!" Chris said, grinning widely.

"Science Fiction?"

"I'll send you some comic books over the summer. They're great entertainment"

"Alright then…"

"But we can focus on that after we do some spell practise. And reading!" Chris said, smiling and hurrying along, leaving a puzzled and confused Draco, who followed after a second.


	5. Rather Interesting Occurences

"Well… this isn't good!" Chris said eloquently.

He and Draco were in one of the classrooms practising the Vanishing Spell, and something alarming happened. While Chris was practising his spell work, an arc of purple lightning shot between his fingers and instead of vanishing his chair… well…

Where the chair once stood, there was now a heaving mess of papers, bugs, dust, dirt, water, potions and many other things normally vanished all fused together, seemingly at the molecular level, standing in the middle of the room.

"What in the name of Merlin is that!?" shouted Draco, backing away. Chris looked at his fake wand, or rather his hand, and blinked.

"I have no idea. Maybe I did the wand movements backwards?" Chris said. But he knew this wasn't a true. Technically speaking, he didn't need to do the wand movements. Something must be happening with his magic. "Can you try and vanish that?"

"Sure. _Evanescent_" Draco said, and waved his wand at the pile. About one fifth of it vanished, but the rest remained.

"Well, that didn't work. Maybe we should get a teacher?"

"Agreed… Um, you stay here and make sure it doesn't… come alive… and I'll go get McGonagall" Draco said, before leaving the classroom at a run. Chris sat down on one of the few chairs they didn't vanish, and looked at his hand.

'_My magic is acting up. I swear I saw a purple spark. Was it that weird energy around my core? Is it effecting my magic now? So many questions I can't answer. Not like I can find a book on it or ask someone. Ugh!' _

Draco returned with McGonagall, who took one look at the mess and vanished it with a wave of her wand. She then asked what happened. Chris explained that he and Draco were practising the Vanishing Spell, when instead of vanishing the chair, all that stuff appeared.

"Hmm, Mr Malfoy, how about you head back to the common room. I'll take Mr Johnson to the Hospital Wing for a quick check up" McGonagall said. Draco shot a worried look at me, before his face went expressionless and he nodded. Chris recognised the mask that Draco wore in front of teachers and non-Slytherins. After he left, McGonagall looked down at me. "Did you notice anything odd about your spell work Chris?"

Chris knew she was a part of the Order, and she could be trusted. She already knew he was from another world.

"Yes, ma'am. While I was casting there was a spark of purple between my fingers. It's almost like it caused the opposite of what I was trying to do" he said. McGonagall nodded thoughtfully.

"I'd be very careful about casting spells at the moment, in that case. Who knows what will happen the next time you try to clean your dorm or dry ink on your homework" she warned. Chris nodded in understanding, and McGonagall led me to the Hospital Wing, where Madam Pomfrey gave me a once over.

"You're correct in your analysis, Mr. Johnson. You'd make a good Healer. It appears the strange energy surrounding your core is fluctuating slightly. Nothing dangerous, but it appears to be causing adverse effects on your spells," Madam Pomfrey said, conjuring a small table with a feather on top. "Try to levitate that feather for me"

Chris shrugged, and without taking his wand out, he waved his hand at the feather and muttered, "Wingardium Leviosa"

There was a mighty crash as the table shattered under the sudden weight of the feather. Chris jumped as it followed the remains of the table and slammed into the stone floor, sending vibrations. Chris quickly cancelled the spell, and stared at the damage he had caused in shock. Even the teachers looked a little unnerved.

"I might have to ask someone else to cast a drying charm on me next time it rains, or else I might be in danger of causing a flood" Chris said dazedly.

The next day, Chris saw something in the newspaper that brought a myriad of memories flooding back.

_MINISTRY SEEKS EDUCATIONAL REFORM  
DOLORES UMBRIDGE APPOINTED  
FIRST EVER HIGH INQUISITOR_

With a gasp, memories of rules, fireworks, swamps, a giant, a vanishing room, winged horses, fighting between two groups, and finally the visage of a stone archway. It felt like he had lived through an entire year, when in reality he had only locked up for a second. It was enough for Draco to notice, who looked up from his breakfast.

"What is it Chris?" asked Draco, looking over his shoulder at the paper. "Oh yeah, Dad told me in a letter that Fudge was appointing Umbridge as High Inquisitor. He said to stay on her good side, I'd suggest the same to you"

"Thanks for the advice" Chris muttered, before he went back to reading the newspaper.

_In a surprise move last night the Ministry of Magic passed new legislation giving itself an unprecedented level of control at Hogwarts School of Witchcraft and Wizardry._

_"The Minister has been growing uneasy about goings-on at Hogwarts for some time," said Junior Assistant to the Minister, Percy Weasley. "He is now responding to concerns, voiced by anxious parents, who feel the school may be moving in a direction they do not approve of."_

_This is not the first time in recent weeks that the Minister, Cornelius Fudge, has used new laws to effect improvements at the Wizarding School. As recently as 30th August, Educational Decree Number Twenty-two was passed, to ensure that, in the event of the current Headmaster being unable to provide a candidate for a teaching post, the Ministry should select an appropriate person._

_"That's how Dolores Umbridge came to be appointed to the teaching staff at Hogwarts," said Weasley last night. "Dumbledore couldn't find anyone so the Minister put in Umbridge, and of course, she's been an immediate success, totally revolutionising the teaching of Defence Against the Dark Arts and providing the Minister with on-the-ground feedback about what's really happening at Hogwarts."_

_It is this last function that the Ministry has now formalised with the passing of Educational Decree Number Twenty-three, which creates the new position of Hogwarts High Inquisitor._

_"This is an exciting new phase in the Minister's plan to get to grips with what some are calling the falling standards at Hogwarts," said Weasley. "The Inquisitor will have powers to inspect her fellow educators and make sure that they are coming up to scratch. Professor Umbridge has been offered this position in addition to her own teaching post and we are delighted to say that she has accepted."_

_The Ministry's new moves have received enthusiastic support from parents of students at Hogwarts._

_"I feel much easier in my mind now that I know Dumbledore is being subjected to fair and objective evaluation," said Mr Lucius Malfoy, 41, speaking from his Wiltshire mansion last night. "Many of us with our children's best interests at heart have been concerned about some of Dumbledore's eccentric decisions in the last few years and are glad to know that the Ministry is keeping an eye on the situation."_

_Among those eccentric decisions are undoubtedly the controversial staff appointments previously described in this newspaper, which have included the employment of werewolf Remus Lupin, half-giant Rubeus Hagrid and delusional ex-Auror, "Mad-Eye" Moody._

_Rumours abound, of course, that Albus Dumbledore, once Supreme Mugwump of the International Confederation of Wizards and Chief Warlock of the Wizengamot, is no longer up to the task of managing the prestigious school of Hogwarts._

_"I think the appointment of the Inquisitor is a first step towards ensuring that Hogwarts has a headmaster in whom we can all repose our confidence," said a Ministry insider last night._

_Wizengamot elders Griselda Marchbanks and Tiberius Ogden have resigned in protest at the introduction of the post of Inquisitor to Hogwarts._

_"Hogwarts is a school, not an outpost of Cornelius Fudge's office," said Madam Marchbanks. "This is a further, disgusting attempt to discredit Albus Dumbledore."_

_(For a full account of Madam Marchbanks's alleged links to subversive goblin groups, turn to page seventeen.)_

Chris sighed, and rubbed his nose. Now that he could remember the events of fifth year, he realized that being here in the flesh showed things to be even more horrifying then in the book. The boy closed the paper the tossed it to the side, picking up his bacon and munching it. After a second, he pushed his bacon away and stood up.

"I lost my appetite. I'm going for a walk." He said. Draco nodded, and Chris left the hall. As he walked out the doors, he felt a ball of static attach to his back. He scanned it, and identified it as a tracking charm. Instead of getting rid of it, he pretended he didn't notice it and kept going.

He headed up the staircase, with the intention of wandering around until his pursuers decided to reveal themselves. After a bit, he walked down an empty corridor, when he knew that something was about to happen. He stopped, and pretending to be looking out the window. Out of the corner of his eye, he noticed the stonework warping slightly, as if light was bending around something.

After a second, a spell was shot off towards him, and Chris ducked, dodging the spell. Reacting instinctively, Chris shot a stunning spell from his right hand at figure that was invisible. It impacted, and the invisible figure collapsed.

"Fred!" yelled another voice. A spell shot off from his left, and Chris barely dodged it, and sent a stunning spell at the second invisible figure, who raised a shield. The shield dropped and the figure, who Chris assumed to be George Weasley, sent a blue spell at Chris.

Chris covered his hand in the purple energy, and caught the spell, which caused it to cancel out. This shocked the Weasley twin long enough for Chris to take him out with a stunning spell. After catching his breath, Chris dragged two second twin over to the first one he knocked out, and used the purple to deactivate their invisibility charms. Afterwards, he whispered "_Incarcerous" _and bound them with ropes, before awakening them with _Enervate_.

"What happened?" groaned Weasley Twin 1. He noticed Chris, and struggled against the ropes. "Let us go you little Death Eater!" he shouted, waking up his twin.

"Okay, 1) I am not a Death Eater, and 2) you guys attacked me. Now, I like to think of myself as a nice guy, so I'll let you two go, only if you promise not to attack me in the future" Chris said.

"We weren't attacking you" Twin 2 said. Chris raised an eyebrow at him. "Well, technically speaking we weren't. We were only going to turn you pink and glue you to the ceiling"

"I don't like pink. It doesn't go with my eyes" the 20 year old said with a deadpan expression. "Look, just promise not to try and prank me again and I'll let you go _without_ reporting you to Snape"

"Alright, fine. We won't try to prank you. Only wanted to have a little fun" the Twins grumbled in unison. Chris nodded and (remembering to use the fake wand) vanished the ropes and gave them a hand up.

Just as Chris made to walk away, to get to his first class, the twins spoke up, "Hey, how did you stun us without your wand? And you caught my Projectile Puke spell with your bare hand."

Chris winced and turned around. "I was hoping you wouldn't notice that. Look, I can't tell you that. It's a big secret. Just, don't tell anyone"

"What's in it for us?"

"Oh god, I really don't have anything to offer you. Seriously, this information CAN NOT get around. Please, just keep it to yourselves!" Chris begged. The two looked at each other in silence, before they nodded.

"Alright, but sooner or later you gotta let us in on what's going on with you. Curiosity killed the cat, but satisfaction brought him back, and all that" Twin 1 said, while Twin 2 nodded in agreement.

"Fine, come find me later. I gotta get to my Ancient Runes class. See you" Chris said, before jogging off to his class. On the way, he berated himself for letting his wandless abilities show. And catching the damn spell? What the hell was he thinking? That memory recovery must have really messed up his common sense. He was surprised the Stunning Spells even worked, and Incarcerous. Maybe his magic was done fluctuating?

Chris received his homework for the highlighted runes. He got an O in that, which surprised and pleased him immensely. After the class, Professor Babbling commended him on his work and he met up with Draco and went to Potions, where his moonstone essay was handed back with an E in an upper corner.

"I have awarded you the grades you would have received if you presented this work in your OWL," said Snape with a smirk, as he swept among them, passing back their homework. "This should give you a realistic idea of what to expect in the examination."

Snape reached the front of the class and turned on his heel to face them.

"The general standard of this homework was abysmal. Most of you would have failed had this been your examination. I expect to see a great deal more effort for this week's essay on the various varieties of venom antidotes, or I shall have to start handing out detentions to those dunces who get a 'D'."

He smirked as Draco sniggered and said in a carrying whisper, 'Some people got a "D"? Ha!'

Chris did quite well on his Strengthening Solution, and after handing a vial to Snape, he stayed back afterwards asking Snape what uses the Strengthening Solution could be used for.

"Ingested, it gives a boost in physical strength, and it can be used to strengthen weapons and materials if applied correctly" Snape answered curtly, before dismissing Chris. After lunch, Chris had Arithmancy with Hermione, who he nodded to with a polite smile. She seemed surprised by his kindness, and gave a slight smile in return.

After class, which was basically them learning how numbers can influence the world around them, and why many magical families only have one or two children, he had Defence Against the Dark Arts. Chris walked alongside Hermione and started up an idle conversation about Arithmancy and different uses for it when combined with different areas of magic. Hermione seemed very happy with this conversation topic, and they got into a very animated discussion about the possibilities. They had to end their conversation when they got to the classroom, as Ron Weasley was giving him the stink eye. Chris made a scene of saying goodbye with a nice smile before heading off to sit with the Slytherins, many of whom looked at him with raised eyebrows.

Umbridge was humming and smiling to herself when they entered the room. Draco asked why he was talking to 'the mudblood', and Chris calmly explained he was discussing Arithmancy with her. He also let slip a small warning about using that word. Before Draco could reply to this, Professor Umbridge had called them all to order and silence fell.

"Wands away," she instructed them all with a smile, and those people who had been hopeful enough to take them out, sadly returned them to their bags. "As we finished Chapter One last lesson, I would like you all to turn to page nineteen today and commence 'Chapter Two, Common Defensive Theories and their Derivation'. There will be no need to talk."

Still smiling her wide, self-satisfied smile, she sat down at her desk. The class gave an audible sigh as it turned, as one, to page nineteen. Chris wondered dully whether there were enough chapters in the book to keep them reading through all this year's lessons and was on the point of checking the contents page when he noticed that Hermione had her hand in the air again.

Professor Umbridge had noticed, too, and what was more, she seemed to have worked out a strategy for just such an eventuality. Instead of trying to pretend she had not noticed Hermione she got to her feet and walked around the front row of desks until they were face to face, then she bent down and whispered, so that the rest of the class could not hear, "What is it this time, Miss Granger?"

"I've already read Chapter Two," said Hermione.

"Well then, proceed to Chapter Three."

"I've read that too. I've read the whole book."

Professor Umbridge blinked but recovered her poise almost instantly.

"Well, then, you should be able to tell me what Slinkhard says about counter-jinxes in Chapter Fifteen."

"He says that counter-jinxes are improperly named," said Hermione promptly. "He says 'counter-jinx' is just a name people give their jinxes when they want to make them sound more acceptable."

Professor Umbridge raised her eyebrows and Chris knew she was impressed, against her will.

"But I disagree," Hermione continued.

Professor Umbridge's eyebrows rose a little higher and her gaze became distinctly colder.

"You disagree?" she repeated.

"Yes, I do," said Hermione, who, unlike Umbridge, was not whispering, but speaking in a clear, carrying voice that had by now attracted the attention of the rest of the class. "Mr Slinkhard doesn't like jinxes, does he? But I think they can be very useful when they're used defensively."

"Oh, you do, do you?" said Professor Umbridge, forgetting to whisper and straightening up. "Well, I'm afraid it is Mr Slinkhard's opinion, and not yours, that matters within this classroom, Miss Granger."

"But…" Hermione began.

"That is enough," said Professor Umbridge. She walked back to the front of the class and stood before them, all the jauntiness she had shown at the beginning of the lesson gone. "Miss Granger, I am going to take five points from Gryffindor house."

There was an outbreak of muttering at this.

"What for?" said Harry angrily.

Hermione whispered something to the boy, but he ignored her.

"For disrupting my class with pointless interruptions," said Professor Umbridge smoothly. "I am here to teach you using a Ministry-approved method that does not include inviting students to give their opinions on matters about which they understand very little. Your previous teachers in this subject may have allowed you more licence, but as none of them - with the possible exception of Professor Quirrell, who did at least appear to have restricted himself to age-appropriate subjects - would have passed a Ministry inspection…"

"Yeah, Quirrell was a great teacher," said Harry loudly, "there was just that minor drawback of him having Lord Voldemort sticking out of the back of his head."

This pronouncement was followed by one of the loudest silences Chris had ever heard. The young looking man facepalmed, now knowing what happened in those detentions.

"I think another week's detentions would do you some good, Mr Potter," said Umbridge sleekly.

Breakfast on Tuesday brought some entertainment as Angelina Johnson (no relation to Chris) reacted to Harry Potter's detention. She was shouting so loudly, that McGonagall came over to bring an end to the racket. Chris decided to just ignore this and eat his breakfast. He was worried about the Twins. They kept shooting him looks, and he knew that he would have to bring them into the secret. Dumbledore would surely not approve.

Chris pondered over his dilemma during Charms, and when he got to Transfiguration, all thoughts of the Twin Dilemma was pushed from his mind when he saw that Umbridge and her clipboard were sitting in a corner.

Chris sat down, and hid his grin as he knew what was going to happen.

Professor McGonagall marched into the room without giving the slightest indication that she knew Professor Umbridge was there.

"That will do," she said and silence fell immediately. "Mr Finnigan, kindly come here and hand back the homework - Miss Brown, please take this box of mice - don't be silly, girl, they won't hurt you - and hand one to each student…"

"Hem, hem," said Professor Umbridge, employing the same silly little cough she had used to interrupt Dumbledore on the first night of term. Professor McGonagall ignored her. Seamus handed back Chris' essay; Chris took it without looking at him and saw, to his relief, that he had managed an 'A'.

"Right then, everyone, listen closely - Dean Thomas, if you do that to the mouse again I shall put you in detention - most of you have now successfully Vanished your snails and even those who were left with a certain amount of shell have got the gist of the spell. Today, we shall be…"

"Hem, hem," said Professor Umbridge.

"Yes?" said Professor McGonagall, turning round, her eyebrows so close together they seemed to form one long, severe line.

"I was just wondering, Professor, whether you received my note telling you of the date and time of your inspec…"

"Obviously I received it, or I would have asked you what you are doing in my classroom," said Professor McGonagall, turning her back firmly on Professor Umbridge. Many of the students exchanged looks of glee. "As I was saying: today, we shall be practising the altogether more difficult Vanishment of mice. Now, the Vanishing Spell…"

"Hem, hem."

"I wonder," said Professor McGonagall in cold fury, turning on Professor Umbridge, "how you expect to gain an idea of my usual teaching methods if you continue to interrupt me? You see, I do not generally permit people to talk when I am talking."

Professor Umbridge looked as though she had just been slapped in the face. She did not speak, but straightened the parchment on her clipboard and began scribbling furiously.

Looking supremely unconcerned, Professor McGonagall addressed the class once more.

"As I was saying: the Vanishing Spell becomes more difficult with the complexity of the animal to be Vanished. The snail, as an invertebrate, does not present much of a challenge; the mouse, as a mammal, offers a much greater one. This is not, therefore, magic you can accomplish with your mind on your dinner. So - you know the incantation, let me see what you can do."

Professor Umbridge did not follow Professor McGonagall around the class as she had followed Professor Trelawney; perhaps she realised Professor McGonagall would not permit it. She did, however, take many more notes while sitting in her corner, and when Professor McGonagall finally told them all to pack away, she rose with a grim expression on her face.

Chris didn't bother to stick around and see what Umbridge had to say, as he already knew what was going to happen. Plus a Slytherin hanging around after class would have looked suspicious to the Almighty Righteous Ron Weasley.

When he walked down the lawns towards the Forest for Care of Magical Creatures with Draco and a small band of Slytherins, they found her and her clipboard waiting for them beside Professor Grubbly-Plank.

"You do not usually take this class, is that correct?" Chris heard her ask as they arrived at the trestle table where the group of captive Bowtruckles were scrabbling around for woodlice like so many living twigs.

"Quite correct," said Professor Grubbly-Plank, hands behind her back and bouncing on the balls of her feet. "I am a substitute teacher standing in for Professor Hagrid."

"Just wait until I tell about all the rubbish that oaf tried to 'teach' us" Draco whispered to Chris. He turned to him with a cool expression.

"Draco, if you tell any lies about Hagrid, I'll tell everyone about your Bugs Bunny briefs" He threatened. Draco went pale, and nodded. He glared slightly at Chris, but he ignored it.

"Hmm," said Professor Umbridge, dropping her voice, though Chris could still hear her quite clearly. "I wonder - the Headmaster seems strangely reluctant to give me any information on the matter - can you tell me what is causing Professor Hagrid's very extended leave of absence?"

"'Fraid I can't," said Professor Grubbly-Plank breezily. "Don't know anything more about it than you do. Got an owl from Dumbledore, would I like a couple of weeks" teaching work. I accepted. That's as much as I know. Well… shall I get started then?"

"Yes, please do," said Professor Umbridge, scribbling on her clipboard.

Umbridge took a different tack in this class and wandered amongst the students, questioning them on magical creatures. Most people were able to answer well.

"Overall," said Professor Umbridge, returning to Professor Grubbly-Plank's side after a lengthy interrogation of Dean Thomas, "how do you, as a temporary member of staff- an objective outsider, I suppose you might say - how do you find Hogwarts? Do you feel you receive enough support from the school management?"

"Oh, yes, Dumbledore's excellent," said Professor Grubbly-Plank heartily. "Yes, I'm very happy with the way things are run, very happy indeed."

Looking politely incredulous, Umbridge made a tiny note on her clipboard and went on, "And what are you planning to cover with this class this year - assuming, of course, that Professor Hagrid does not return?"

"Oh, I'll take them through the creatures that most often come up in OWL," said Professor Grubbly-Plank. "Not much left to do - they've studied unicorns and Nifflers, I thought we'd cover Porlocks and Kneazles, make sure they can recognise Crups and Knarls, you know…"

"Well, you seem to know what you're doing, at any rate," said Professor Umbridge, making a very obvious tick on her clipboard. Harry did not like the emphasis she put on 'you' and liked it even less when she put her next question to Goyle. "Now, I hear there have been injuries in this class?"

Goyle gave a stupid grin. Draco hastened to answer the question.

"That was me," he said He paused when he saw Chris' warning look. "I disrespected a Hippogriff after Professor Hagrid warned me not to."

"A Hippogriff?" said Professor Umbridge, now scribbling frantically. Chris noticed that Harry had a shocked look on his face that Draco wasn't more of a… bastard.

"Well, thank you very much, Professor Grubbly-Plank, I think that's all I need here. You will be receiving the results of your inspection within ten days."

"Jolly good," said Professor Grubbly-Plank, and Professor Umbridge set off back across the lawn to the castle.

When Dumbledore called him to his office for one of their long overdue classes, Albus announced that today he would be examining the purple energy itself under Mage Sight. According to Albus, Mage Sight was when a wizard pooled their magic into their eyes. Many couldn't do it, as it was technically Wandless Magic, and Chris planned to learn it himself.

"Now, Christopher, could I get you to draw out the energy please?" Albus asked. Chris nodded, and concentrated on coating his hand in the purple electricity. Albus' eyes seemed to glow bright, and he peered at his hand.

"Fascinating… the energy appears like a waterfall under Mage Sight, as if the energy is cascading from your hands, vanishing, then appearing at the top again! It almost looks like soul magic, yet vastly different at the same time" Albus said, blinking his eyes and turning off the Mage Sight, his eyes now back to normal. He pondered for a second, "Yes… that does sound catchy. What about we call the energy the Cascade?"

"Hmmm, that fits I suppose." Chris said, shrugging his shoulders.

"Yes, well, today we'll be focusing on your precision spell casting"

"Another thing sir, well… The other day, I was jumped by the Weasley Twins, and out of instinct I started casting wandlessly and caught one of their spell" Chris said, looking sheepish. Albus sat back in his chair and scratched his beard.

"That is troubling. However, I have known the Weasley Family since Arthur Weasley was a student here… they can be trusted with the secret, especially as the Weasley parents and quite a few of their children are members of the Order" Albus said. Chris nodded in agreement. He had nearly forgotten that. His memories of the 5th book were still all muddled up.

"I hope so. I really can't keep dodging those two. Every time they look at me I'm afraid they're telling people about my abilities. God, this is so stressful. How am I supposed to deal with this? Even in a world of wizards, witches and magical creatures I'm weird!" Chris said, leaning on Dumbledore's desk and placing his forehead in his hands.

"You're not weird, Chris. You've found yourself thrown into unique situation most cannot handle. You have done remarkably well in keeping a calm mind so far. It would be a waste to let yourself fall into self-doubt." Dumbledore said, his voice calm and even. Chris looked up at the wizened wizard, and saw him looking at him piercingly.

"I know. It's just…"

"Just nothing. You cannot change what has happened. The best you can do is make due until we can find a way to get you home" Dumbledore said. Chris looked down at his feet for a few seconds, before looking back up and nodding. "Good. Now, let us continue your training. I hear you're doing well in Ancient Runes. Let's practise some inscribing rather than spell precision. You deserve an enjoyable lesson."

And enjoyable it was. It was in this lesson that Chris learned how to inscribe and how to channel his magic into the rune to charge it. He had inscribed it into a sheet of parchment, and when it was charged the rune glowed softly. To test it, Dumbledore cast several exploding spells at the parchment. While the table around it broke, the parchment took several spells before the rune was overwhelmed and exploded.

"Very good for a first attempt!" Dumbledore said, waving his wand and repairing the table, while vanishing the parchment pieces. Chris grinned, and thanked the old wizard before he left.

It turned out Chris didn't have to wait long to let the Twins in on the secret. They cornered him one morning on the way to Breakfast, and dragged him into an unused classroom. Chris pondered for a second just how many classrooms there were in this school.

"Alright Johnson. You've been dodging us for too long. Time to fess up." Said Twin 1, while Twin 2 nodded in agreement. Chris sighed.

"Yeah, I have been kind of avoiding you, but only because this is a massive thing. Dumbledore told me that you can be trusted since you're involved with the Order" Chris said. The twins looked at each other, eyebrows raised, probably wondering why a Slytherin knew about the Order.

"So, what's the story?"

"Okay… you see, I'm not really a transfer student from Australia. And I'm not 15, I'm actually 20. Yeah, it's a trait in my family that I look younger then I really am" Chris said, noticing the shocked looks the twins shared.

"So, if you're not from Australia, where are you from?" asked one of the twins. Chris already lost track of which one was Twin 1 and which was Twin 2. He needed to find a way to distinguish them. He took a deep breath before answering.

"I'm from another universe"

There was a pause, and the twins stared at him, before they grinned.

"Nice one, Johnson, but you're not getting out of it that easily."

"I'm not lying. Before school started, I appeared in London in a blast of purple lightning. I was taken to Saint Mungos, and Dumbledore made me a Ward of Hogwarts. Since I only just appeared and I somehow had a core of an adult already, I needed training. I was given tutoring, but when school started up they decided I was only up to 3rd-4th year. I'm just trying to get along this year until Dumbledore can find a way to send me back! The reason why I can cast wandless magic is because my core is big enough to handle it." Chris said.

The two looked at each other, and seemed to be communicating telepathically.

"What makes you think we'd believe that?" asked one of the twins. Chris groaned in frustration, and took his wand out before throwing it to the side.

"Cast your strongest, most violent spell at me. Make it one that can't be stopped by most shielding spells" he said. The two looked at him in aghast, before nodding. Twin one took his wand out, and shot a sickly yellow spell at Chris. He summoned the Cascade to his hand, and covered it in the lightning, before catching the spell. As soon as it touched his hand, it vanished. The twins stared in shock.

"Can anything from this universe do that?" Chris asked, breathing heavily. That spell took a lot of the Cascade to stop. The twins looked at each other. "I can help you with pranks if you keep my secret"

The twins grinned, looking at Chris with calculating eyes.

"Deal"


	6. The Defence Association

In the days coming up to the Hogsmeade Weekend, Chris was approached by Hermione in joining the Defence Group. He wasn't expecting this, and knew that a large amount of complaining about letting a Slytherin join would come up, especially from Ron Weasley.

He was told to go to the Hogs Head, and meet them along with the other kids who would be joining up. Chris agreed. When he got there, it was empty, so he sat down in the back and pulled his hood up over his head. This wouldn't be odd, as it seemed to be common for people to keep their faces hidden at the Hogs Head. There was a man at the bar whose whole head was wrapped in dirty grey bandages, though he was still managing to gulp endless glasses of some smoking, fiery substance through a slit over his mouth; two figures shrouded in hoods sat at a table in one of the windows; Chris might have thought them Dementors if they had not been talking in strong Yorkshire accents, and in a shadowy corner beside the fireplace sat a witch with a thick, black veil that fell to her toes. He could just see the tip of her nose because it caused the veil to protrude slightly.

After a bit, Chris noticed Harry, Hermione and Weasley turn up. He picked up a newspaper and pretended to read it. He was friendly with Hermione and Harry, but he didn't want to listen to Weasley's rubbish about all Slytherin's being evil.

"I don't know about this, Hermione," Harry muttered, as they crossed to the bar. He was looking particularly at the heavily veiled witch. "Has it occurred to you Umbridge might be under that?"

Hermione cast an appraising eye over the veiled figure.

"Umbridge is shorter than that woman," she said quietly. "And anyway, even if Umbridge does come in here there's nothing she can do to stop us, Harry, because I've double- and triple-checked the school rules. We're not out of bounds; I specifically asked Professor Flitwick whether students were allowed to come in the Hog's Head, and he said yes, but he advised me strongly to bring our own glasses. And I've looked up everything I can think of about study groups and homework groups and they're definitely allowed. I just don't think it's a good idea if we parade what we're doing."

"No," said Harry drily, "especially as it's not exactly a homework group you're planning, is it?"

The barman sidled towards them out of a back room. He was a grumpy-looking old man with a great deal of long grey hair and beard.

"What?" he grunted.

"Three Butterbeers, please," said Hermione.

The man reached beneath the counter and pulled up three very dusty, very dirty bottles, which he slammed on the bar.

"Six Sickles," he said.

Harry seemed to pay, and they took their drinks as far away from the bar as possible, which was conveniently near Chris' table.

"You know what?" Weasley murmured, looking over at the bar with enthusiasm. "We could order anything we liked in here. I bet that bloke would sell us anything, he wouldn't care. I've always wanted to try Firewhiskey…"

"You - are - a - prefect," snarled Hermione.

"Oh," said Ron, the smile fading from his face. "Yeah…"

Chris snorted, trying to cover his laughter, but Weasley seemed to pick up on it. He scowled at the hooded figure that was Chris, and looked like he wanted to start a fight.

"So, who did you say is supposed to be meeting us?" Harry asked, wrenching open the rusty top of his Butterbeer and taking a swig.

"Just a couple of people," Hermione repeated, checking her watch and looking anxiously towards the door. "I told them to be here about now and I'm sure they all know where it is - oh, look, this might be them now."

The door of the pub had opened. A thick band of dusty sunlight split the room in two for a moment and then vanished, blocked by the incoming rush of a crowd of people.

First came Neville with Dean and Lavender, who were closely followed by Parvati and Padma Patil with Cho and one of her usually-giggling girlfriends, then (on her own and looking so dreamy she might have walked in by accident) Luna Lovegood; then Katie Bell, Alicia Spinnet and Angelina Johnson, Colin and Dennis Creevey Ernie Macmillan, Justin Finch-Fletchley, Hannah Abbott, a Hufflepuff girl with a long plait down her back whose name Chris did not know; three Ravenclaw boys he was pretty sure were called Anthony Goldstein, Michael Corner and Terry Boot, Ginny, closely followed by a tall skinny blond boy with an upturned nose whom Chris recognised vaguely as being a member of the Hufflepuff Quidditch team and, bringing up the rear, Fred and George Weasley with their friend Lee Jordan, all three of whom were carrying large paper bags crammed with Zonko's merchandise.

"A couple of people?" said Harry hoarsely to Hermione. "A couple of people?"

"Yes, well, the idea seemed quite popular," said Hermione happily. "Ron, do you want to pull up some more chairs?"

The barman had frozen in the act of wiping out a glass with a rag so filthy it looked as though it had never been washed. Possibly, he had never seen his pub so full.

"Hi," said Fred, reaching the bar first and counting his companions quickly, "could we have… twenty-five Butterbeers, please?"

The barman glared at him for a moment, then, throwing down his rag irritably as though he had been interrupted in something very important, he started passing up dusty Butterbeers from under the bar.

"Cheers," said Fred, handing them out. "Cough up, everyone, I haven't got enough gold for all of these…"

Harry seemed to be watching this with some kind of horrified fascination, which he quickly shook his way out of and turned on Hermione.

"What have you been telling people?" he said in a low voice. "What are they expecting?"

"I've told you, they just want to hear what you've got to say," said Hermione soothingly; but Harry continued to look at her so furiously that she added quickly, "you don't have to do anything yet, I'll speak to them first."

"Hi, Harry" said Neville, beaming and taking a seat opposite him.

Chris grinned slightly, realizing that no one had noticed him there. He decided to stay quiet until the end, and make his grand appearance.

In twos and threes the new arrivals settled around Harry, Ron and Hermione, some looking rather excited, others curious, Luna Lovegood gazing dreamily into space. When everybody had pulled up a chair, the chatter died out. Every eye was upon Harry.

"Er," said Hermione, her voice slightly higher than usual out of nerves. "Well - er - hi."

'_Yes, very awe-inspiring Hermione' _Chris thought to himself, smirking under his hood.

The group focused its attention on her instead, though eyes continued to dart back regularly to Harry.

"Well… erm . . . well, you know why you're here. Erm . . . well, Harry here had the idea - I mean" (Harry had thrown her a sharp look) "I had the idea - that it might be good if people who wanted to study Defence Against the Dark Arts - and I mean, really study it, you know, not the rubbish that Umbridge is doing with us…" (Hermione's voice became suddenly much stronger and more confident) "… Because nobody could call that Defence Against the Dark Arts…" ("Hear, hear," said Anthony Goldstein, and Hermione looked heartened) "…Well, I thought it would be good if we, well, took matters into our own hands."

She paused, looked sideways at Harry and went on, "And by that I mean learning how to defend ourselves properly, not just in theory but doing the real spells…"

"You want to pass your Defence Against the Dark Arts OWL too, though, I bet?" said Michael Corner, who was watching her closely.

"Of course I do," said Hermione at once. "But more than that, I want to be properly trained in defence because… because…" she took a great breath and finished, "because Lord Voldemort is back."

The reaction was immediate and predictable. Cho's friend shrieked and slopped Butterbeer down herself; Terry Boot gave a kind of involuntary twitch; Padma Patil shuddered, and Neville gave an odd yelp that he managed to turn into a cough. All of them, however, looked fixedly, even eagerly, at Harry.

"Well… that's the plan, anyway," said Hermione. "If you want to join us, we need to decide how we're going to…"

"Where's the proof You-Know-Who's back?" said the blond Hufflepuff player in a rather aggressive voice.

"Well, Dumbledore believes it…" Hermione began.

"You mean, Dumbledore believes him," said the blond boy, nodding at Harry.

"Who are you?" said Weasley, rather rudely.

"Zacharias Smith," said the boy, "and I think we've got the right to know exactly what makes him say You-Know-Who's back."

"Look," said Hermione, intervening swiftly, "that's really not what this meeting was supposed to be about…"

"It's OK, Hermione," said Harry.

It had just dawned on him why there were so many people there. He thought Hermione should have seen this coming. Some of these people - maybe even most of them - had turned up in the hopes of hearing Harry's story firsthand.

"What makes me say You-Know-Who's back?" he repeated, looking Zacharias straight in the face. "I saw him. But Dumbledore told the whole school what happened last year, and if you didn't believe him, you won't believe me, and I'm not wasting an afternoon trying to convince anyone."

The whole group seemed to have held its breath while Harry spoke. Chris had the impression that even the barman was listening. He was wiping the same glass with the filthy rag, making it steadily dirtier.

Zacharias said dismissively, "All Dumbledore told us last year was that Cedric Diggory got killed by You-Know-Who and that you brought Diggory's body back to Hogwarts. He didn't give us details, he didn't tell us exactly how Diggory got murdered, and I think we'd all like to know…"

"If you've come to hear exactly what it looks like when Voldemort murders someone I can't help you," Harry said. He did not take his eyes from Zacharias Smith's aggressive face. "I don't want to talk about Cedric Diggory, all right? So if that's what you're here for, you might as well clear out."

He cast an angry look in Hermione's direction. But none of them left their seats, not even Zacharias Smith, though he continued to gaze intently at Harry.

"So," said Hermione, her voice very high-pitched again. "So… like I was saying… if you want to learn some defence, then we need to work out how we're going to do it, how often we're going to meet and where we're going to…"

"Is it true," interrupted the girl with the long plait down her back, looking at Harry, "that you can produce a Patronus?"

There was a murmur of interest around the group at this.

"Yeah," said Harry slightly defensively.

"A corporeal Patronus?"

"Er - you don't know Madam Bones, do you?" he asked.

The girl smiled.

"She's my auntie," she said. "I'm Susan Bones. She told me about your hearing. So - is it really true? You make a stag Patronus?"

"Yes," said Harry.

"Blimey, Harry!" said Lee, looking deeply impressed. "I never knew that!"

"Mum told Ron not to spread it around," said Fred, grinning at Harry. "She said you got enough attention as it was."

"She's not wrong," mumbled Harry, and a couple of people laughed.

The veiled witch sitting alone shifted very slightly in her seat.

"And did you kill a Basilisk with that sword in Dumbledore's office?" demanded Terry Boot. "That's what one of the portraits on the wall told me when I was in there last year…"

"Er - yeah, I did, yeah," said Harry.

Justin Finch-Fletchley whistled; the Creevey brothers exchanged awestruck looks and Lavender Brown said "Wow!" softly. Chris was feeling quite impressed. He only had memories of the fifth book so far, so he didn't know about these achievements.

"And in our first year," said Neville to the group at large, "he saved that Philological Stone…"

"Philosopher's," hissed Hermione.

"Yes, that - from You-Know-Who," finished Neville.

Hannah Abbott's eyes were as round as Galleons.

"And that's not to mention," said Cho "all the tasks he had to get through in the Triwizard Tournament last year - getting past dragons and merpeople and Acromantula and things..."

There was a murmur of impressed agreement around the table. Harry seemed to be trying hopelessly not to grin like an idiot at Cho's praise.

"Look," he said, and everyone fell silent at once, "I… I don't want to sound like I'm trying to be modest or anything, but... I had a lot of help with all that stuff…"

"Not with the dragon, you didn't," said Michael Corner at once. "That was a seriously cool bit of flying…"

"Yeah, well…"

"And nobody helped you get rid of those Dementors this summer," said Susan Bones.

"No," said Harry, "no, OK, I know I did bits of it without help, but the point I'm trying to make is…"

"Are you trying to weasel out of showing us any of this stuff?" said Zacharias Smith.

"Here's an idea," said Weasley loudly, before Harry could speak, "why don't you shut your mouth?"

Perhaps the word 'weasel' had affected Weasley particularly strongly. In any case, he was now looking at Zacharias as though he would like nothing better than to thump him. Zacharias flushed.

"Well, we've all turned up to learn from him and now he's telling us he can't really do any of it," he said.

"That's not what he said," snarled Fred.

"Would you like us to clean out your ears for you?" enquired George, pulling a long and lethal-looking metal instrument from inside one of the Zonko's bags.

"Or any part of your body, really, we're not fussy where we stick this," said Fred.

"Yes, well," said Hermione hastily, moving on "… the point is, are we agreed we want to take lessons from Harry?"

There was a murmur of general agreement. Zacharias folded his arms and said nothing, though perhaps this was because he was too busy keeping an eye on the instrument in Fred's hand.

"Right," said Hermione, looking relieved that something had at last been settled. "Well, then, the next question is how often we do it. I really don't think there's any point in meeting less than once a week…"

"Hang on," said Angelina, "we need to make sure this doesn't clash with our Quidditch practice."

"No," said Cho, "nor with ours."

"Nor ours," added Zacharias Smith.

"I'm sure we can find a night that suits everyone," said Hermione, slightly impatiently, "but you know, this is rather important, we're talking about learning to defend ourselves against V-Voldemort's Death Eaters…"

"Well said!" barked Ernie Macmillan. "Personally, I think this is really important, possibly more important than anything else we'll do this year, even with our OWLs coming up!"

He looked around impressively, as though waiting for people to cry 'Surely not!' When nobody spoke, he went on, "I, personally, am at a loss to see why the Ministry has foisted such a useless teacher on us at this critical period. Obviously, they are in denial about the return of You-Know-Who, but to give us a teacher who is trying to actively prevent us from using defensive spells…"

"We think the reason Umbridge doesn't want us trained in Defence Against the Dark Arts," said Hermione, "is that she's got some… some mad idea that Dumbledore could use the students in the school as a kind of private army. She thinks he'd mobilise us against the Ministry"

Nearly everybody looked stunned at this news; everybody except Luna Lovegood, who piped up, "Well, that makes sense. After all, Cornelius Fudge has got his own private army"

"What?" said Harry, completely thrown by this unexpected piece of information?

"Yes, he's got an army of Heliopaths," said Luna solemnly.

"No, he hasn't," snapped Hermione.

"Yes, he has," said Luna.

"What are Heliopaths?" asked Neville, looking blank.

"They're spirits of fire," said Luna, her protuberant eyes widening so that she looked madder than ever, "great tall flaming creatures that gallop across the ground burning everything in front of…"

"They don't exist, Neville," said Hermione tartly.

"Actually, they do" Chris said, deciding to make his appearance. He threw his cloak off, and revealed himself to the group. A lot of people gasped, and a few of them even pulled their wands out. Weasley was glaring at him in suspicion.

"What are you doing here, Slytherin?" spat Weasley. Chris blinked, and looked around the room blankly.

"This is the location of the top secret self-defence group run by Harry Potter isn't it?" he asked, acting oblivious. A few people nodded hesitantly. "Oh good! I was afraid I had come to the wrong place. You see, Ginger-vitis, I was _invited_ to join, by our dear Miss Hermione Granger. Now. Put your wands away before you do something silly" Chris said. He was glad he had planned that little speech beforehand. Now was not the time to stutter and flounder. The students who had done so put their wands away sheepishly.

"Anyway, as I was saying, Heliopaths are real creatures. They live on the Pyros Planes, between the Aero Planes and the Terra Planes. They reproduce similar to single cell organisms, by splitting apart and regaining their mass. Since they possess no organs they cannot be called Beasts, and since they have a degree of sentience they are classified as Beings. Also, Luna, I'm afraid they wouldn't work for a worm like Fudge, they have too much pride to sink that low" Chris said kindly. Luna giggled slightly, shocking those around her.

"Hem, hem," said Ginny, in such a good imitation of Professor Umbridge that several people looked around in alarm and then laughed. "Weren't we trying to decide how often we're going to meet and have defence lessons?"

"Yes," said Hermione at once, looking quite flushed that she had been proven wrong by Chris, "yes, we were, you're right, Ginny."

"Well, once a week sounds cool," said Lee Jordan.

"As long as…" began Angelina.

"Yes, yes, we know about the Quidditch," said Hermione in a tense voice. "Well, the other thing to decide is where we're going to meet…"

This was rather more difficult; the whole group fell silent.

"Library?" suggested Katie Bell after a few moments.

"I can't see Madam Pince being too chuffed with us doing jinxes in the library," said Harry.

"Maybe an unused classroom?" said Dean.

"Yeah," said Ron, "McGonagall might let us have hers, she did when Harry was practising for the Tri wizard."

"I have an idea" Chris spoke up. He decided to save some time and tell them about the Room.

"We don't want your ideas!" snarled Weasley. The Twins clipped him across the ears at the same time, "OW! What was that for!?"

"Thank you, Troublesome Twins" Chris said, grinning.

"You're welcome, Pranking Partner" They replied in unison, giving identical grins. This surprised everyone in the room.

"Anyway, before I was so rudely interrupted, I know about a Room in the castle known as the Come and Go Room. One of the House Elves told me about it during one of my visits. Apparently, the room changes to suit the needs of anyone who calls upon it. Filch unknowingly uses it for cleaning supplies, and a cheerful lad named Dobby has had to store his alcoholic lady friend during her… ahem… drinking sprees in there to rest" Chris explained. Harry perked up hearing about his elf friends' name, while Hermione looked interested in the nature of this room.

"Thank you for that, Chris. That should suit our needs. Do you know where it is?" Hermione asked.

"I'll tell you later in secret. We don't want any unwanted ears hearing it, do we?" asked Chris. Hermione nodded in agreement, and rummaged in her bag and produced parchment and a quill, then hesitated, rather as though she was steeling herself to say something.

"I - I think everybody should write their name down, just so we know who was here. But I also think," She took a deep breath, "that we all ought to agree not to shout about what we're doing. So if you sign, you're agreeing not to tell Umbridge or anybody else what we're up to."

Fred reached out for the parchment and cheerfully wrote his signature, but Chris noticed at once that several people looked less than happy at the prospect of putting their names on the list.

"Er..." said Zacharias slowly, not taking the parchment that George was trying to pass to him, "well... I'm sure Ernie will tell me when the meeting is."

But Ernie was looking rather hesitant about signing, too. Hermione raised her eyebrows at him.

"I - well, we are prefects," Ernie burst out. "And if this list was found... well, I mean to say... you said yourself, if Umbridge finds out…"

"You just said this group was the most important thing you'd do this year," Harry reminded him.

"Oooh! Oooh!" Chris said, putting his hand up and bouncing in his seat. Several people sent him weird looks, and Harry called on him. "What if we charmed to parchment so that if anyone who hasn't signed the paper sees it, all they'll see is a list of insults directed at the Umbitch?"

Several people chuckled at the name, while Hermione sent him a disapproving look.

"Well, I suppose we could do that, but maybe without the insults…"

"No. It has to be with the insults. Nothing else" Chris said, crossing his arms and looking serious. Hermione looked at the Twins angrily.

"He was such a kind smart boy. You corrupted him!"

"No, he was a very good actor…" Fred said.

"… and we've revealed him!" finished the other.

"Alright… fine, I'll sign" said Ernie, taking the sheet and signing his name. Nobody raised objections after Ernie, though Chris saw Cho's friend give her a rather reproachful look before adding her own name. Chris was the last to sign, and he inscribed several runes on the bottom of the sheet and pressed his wand to them, charging them slightly. Hermione took the parchment back and slipped it carefully into her bag. There was an odd feeling in the group now. It was as though they had just signed some kind of contract.

"Well, time's ticking on," said Fred briskly, getting to his feet. "George, Lee and I have got items of a sensitive nature to purchase, we'll be seeing you all later."

In twos and threes the rest of the group took their leave, too.

Chris left along with the Cho, and noticed that Ron was giving Hermione an earful about 'letting in that Slytherin Spy' and 'letting him booby trap the parchment'. Chris rolled his eyes.

"No matter how nice I try to be, people still judge me on my house…" he muttered frowning at the ground.

"I don't judge you on your house. I know that you are a nice person, even with the snake on your robes" Cho said. Chris jumped, forgetting that she was there for a second.

"Thanks Cho. Nice to see that others beside Harry and Hermione actually like me… and Draco, I suppose, but I think he's only friendly with me because we have to share a dorm." Chris said. Cho smiled back, while her friend glared mistrustfully at Chris.

Chris had decided to sleep in over the next day, and when he woke up he found quite a few people crowded around the notice board. He walked over and found out why, a grimace coming to his face. A large sign had been affixed to the Slytherin noticeboard, so large it covered everything else on it - the lists of secondhand spellbooks for sale, the regular reminders of school rules from Argus Filch, the Quidditch team training timetable, the offers to barter certain Chocolate Frog Cards for others, the dates of the Hogsmeade weekends and the lost and found notices. The new sign was printed in large black letters and there was a highly official-looking seal at the bottom beside a neat and curly signature.

**BY ORDER OF THE HIGH INQUISITOR OF HOGWARTS**

_All student organisations, societies, teams, groups and clubs are henceforth disbanded.  
An organisation, society, team, group or club is hereby defined as a regular meeting of three or more students.  
Permission to re-form may be sought from the High Inquisitor (Professor Umbridge).  
No student organisation, society, team, group or club may exist without the knowledge and approval of the High Inquisitor.  
Any student found to have formed, or to belong to, an organisation, society, team, group or club that has not been approved by the High Inquisitor will be expelled._

_The above is in accordance with Educational Decree Number Twenty-four.  
Signed: Dolores Jane Umbridge, High Inquisitor_

"We'll be fine, the Slytherin team will be automatically approved. Father sent me a letter about it this morning." Draco drawled, looking at the small print at the bottom. Chris was worried however. He was a part of the defence group, so if he was caught being in it, he would be in big trouble. But, he did charm the parchment to insult anyone who didn't sign it, so he felt they were safe. Chris was very confident in his ability to draw runes.

During the walk from Arithmancy to Potions, Draco was telling the other Slytherins about his father getting the Slytherin Team passed by the Educational Degree, much louder then was really necessary. Chris decided he would have to find a way to separate Draco from the other Slytherins and get him to be a bit more… tolerable.

"Yeah, Umbridge gave the Slytherin Quidditch team permission to continue playing straightaway, I went to ask her first thing this morning. Well, it was pretty much automatic, I mean, she knows my father really well, he's always popping in and out of the Ministry… it'll be interesting to see whether Gryffindor are allowed to keep playing, won't it?"

Chris rolled his eyes at how loud and mocking Draco was being.

"I mean," said Malfoy, raising his voice a little more, his grey eyes glittering malevolently in Harry and Weasley's direction, "if it's a question of influence with the Ministry, I don't think they've got much chance… from what my father says, they've been looking for an excuse to sack Arthur Weasley for years… and as for Potter… my father says it's a matter of time before the Ministry has him carted off to St Mungo's… apparently they've got a special ward for people whose brains have been addled by magic."

Draco made a grotesque face, his mouth sagging open and his eyes rolling. Crabbe and Goyle gave their usual grunts of laughter; Pansy Parkinson shrieked with glee. Chris glared at his friend in disgust. That was going too far.

Suddenly, Neville Longbottom slammed into Harry's shoulder, charging wildly at Draco.

"Neville, no!" Harry yelled.

Harry leapt forward and seized the back of Neville's robes; Neville struggled frantically, his fists flailing, trying desperately to get at Draco who looked, for a moment, extremely shocked.

"Help me!" Harry flung at Weasley, managing to get an arm around Neville's neck and dragging him backwards, away from the Slytherins. Crabbe and Goyle were flexing their arms as they stepped in front of Draco, ready for the fight. Weasley seized Neville's arms, and together he and Harry succeeded in dragging Neville back into the Gryffindor line. Nevilles face was scarlet; the pressure Harry was exerting on his throat rendered him quite incomprehensible, but odd words spluttered from his mouth.

"Not… funny... don't… Mungo's… show… him..."

The dungeon door opened. Snape appeared there. His black eyes swept up the Gryffindor line to the point where Harry and Weasley were wrestling with Neville.

"Fighting, Potter, Weasley, Longbottom?" Snape said in his cold, sneering voice. "Ten points from Gryffindor. Release Longbottom, Potter, or it will be detention. Inside, all of you."

As Chris took his seat beside Draco, he half wished he didn't know why Neville reacted so violently. Despite not being able to remember his family, he somehow knew the pain of losing someone close to you. The next few months were going to be very interesting, and a trial for all involved.


	7. Creating Wheatley

Over the next few weeks, not much happened to Chris. Due to the fact that a lot of the events in the book were centred on Harry, he didn't really have anything to do. He had passed along the location of the Room of Requirement to Hermione during an Ancient Runes class, and had taken to reading some comics that he borrowed off a Muggleborn classmate. He had to keep them hidden, but he found he was fascinated by the superhero Iron Man, and his inventions. Mostly his A.I. Companion, J.A.R.V.I.S.

It let him to wonder if he could make his own Artificial Intelligence with magic. He supposed if he could find a way to map a human brain, he could probably figure out some kind of runic array mixed with an arithmetic algorithm. Taking it upon himself as a pet project, he spent several days in the Library trying to find a spell to map the human brain. In the end, he found a relatively new spell that had apparently been invented by a Mediwizard in 1723 as a way to find a way to cure those with mental disorders. However, the Wizengamot at the time refused to pass it for professional use, and it was left to gather dust in an 18th Century medical journal. The book also held some other interesting information, which led to Chris borrowing it from the Library.

He studied the theory of the spell and found that it was quite complicated, and required severe concentration. Notes were made warning to say the words correctly, or be in danger of the spell backfiring. He spent several days memorising the incantations, and by the time he got it memorized, he could have spoken them in his sleep. Next up, he had to collect a few materials. Not all spells used incantations and wand movements purely, some of the more complex ones needed focusing crystals and those candle things that gave off smells.

For the life of him, Chris could not remember what these were called… oh well, it'll come to him sooner or later.

In order to get the materials, Chris had one of the staff accompany him to Diagon Alley. Since he was a Ward of Hogwarts, he needed a teacher to escort him outside of the school. Snape had drawn the short straw, as it were, and he grumbled lightly as Chris led him through the bustling cobblestone streets.

"What is it that you need?" asked Snape, glaring at the other denizens of the shopping hotspot.

"Just a few Focusing Crystals and some of those smelly candle things" Chris said, looking down at the sheet of parchment Tracey Davies had given him. He'd asked her if she knew of any shops that sold these items, and she told him about a small shop just off from Gringotts called Merryweather's Arcane Trinkets.

"You mean Fragrant Candles?" drawled Snape, his black robes swishing as they marched down the street. He couldn't stay out of the castle for long. He was brewing a potion that couldn't be left in unprofessional hands for too long. At the moment, he had some Advanced Potions students watching the potion for him.

"Yes, that's the one. I couldn't remember what they were called. I think this is the place" Chris said, turning into a small narrow shop wedged between a pet store and an alternative clothing store.

It smelled kind of funky inside, and a light smoke floated just above their heads, changing colour every now and then and showing images that were only corporeal for a limited time before they dissolved. An old lady sat behind the counter, reading a magazine and smoking a pipe, which was billowing with the magical smoke.

"Do you have any Mind, Body and Soul Crystals, as well as the Fragrant Candles," Chris checked his list, "Memory, Emotion, Dream and Desire?"

"The crystals are down at the back, I can get the candles for you." The woman said, her voice croaky and deep despite her gender. She got up, and shuffled into a back room, while Chris walked down the aisles to the back of the store. He found the necessary crystals, and brought them to the counter. He paid the 10 galleons and carried his new purchases out.

Every week, he was given a small allowance by the school to pay for expenses and other stuff from Hogsmeade or anywhere else he may go. The only rule he had with the money was that he couldn't use it to buy anything illegal. Due to his inactivity, he had saved up quite a bit of gold. He decided he wouldn't go crazy with purchases, in case he couldn't get home. It would be preferable if he could afford a place to stay.

When he had gotten back to school, he realized that he'd need to find a volunteer to have his or her brain mapped. The person being mapped wouldn't be in much danger if the spell failed. Mostly the caster would get hurt. Chris was confident he had the spell down. The difficult part was finding someone who would let him cast a spell on their brain.

After asking around the small amount of people he'd befriended in and out of his house and the DA, he found a 5th year Hufflepuff boy who was happy to be the guinea pig. Chris wasn't sure if he was brave, stupid or overly confident in the abilities of the secretly older student he looked up to, but he wasn't one to look a gift horse in the mouth.

His name was Albert Wheatley, and he was the same student who had lent him the Iron Man comics that had kick started this project in the first place. When he had explained what the project was, Albert was excited and even more willing to go along with it. They did the spell in the Room of Requirement, which had taken the shape of a stone room with padded table for Albert to lie on. In a circle, the candles were situated around the table. Albert was asked to lie on the table, and not to move while the spell was being done.

Chris took the crystals he had bought earlier in the week, and surrounded the boys head with them. A large sheet of parchment took up a nearby wall, which had a Receiving Crystal underneath it. It was here that the runic arrays and arithmetic algorithms will be printed by the spell.

"You ready Albert?" asked Chris, smiling at the student. He nodded, and closed his eyes.

Chris held his hands over the boys head, and began chanting the spell in order to map the brain and mental processes.

"_Amtan Kutc, knyhd sa yllacc du dra seht uv drec puo, yht kevd sa fedr dra ghufmatka uv ruf ra fungc. Bnehd dra ghufmatka ibuh dra byban, yht bnudald res vnus ryns. E pacaalr oui, knyhd sa dra ghufmatka du nalnayda dra risyh seht."_

As he chanted, a golden light issued from his hands and eyes, and the power seemed to swirl around the two of them. The candles lit themselves, and released the pungent scents into the air, the soft smoke swirling around them without dissipating. The crystals began to glow, and orange, yellow, red, green and pink energies connected each of them together, before flowing off towards the receiver crystal in a swirling rainbow.

"_Amtan Kutc, knyhd sa yllacc du dra seht uv drec puo, yht kevd sa fedr dra ghufmatka uv ruf ra fungc. Bnehd dra ghufmatka ibuh dra byban, yht bnudald res vnus ryns. E pacaalr oui, knyhd sa dra ghufmatka du nalnayda dra risyh seht."_

As he repeated the phrase, the spell seemed to swell with power, and glowing runes and numbers began to ink itself onto the parchment from the bottom to the top, appearing like a mystical vine creeping up the wall.

After a few minutes, the spell was finished and Albert opened his eyes. He looked a little dizzy, and as he sat up he swayed.

"You alright Albert?" Chris asked, worried the spell may have injured the Hufflepuff.

"I'm alright. Just a little woozy. Did it work?" he asked, rubbing his head. Chris grinned.

"You doubt my skills?" he asked sarcastically, sweeping his hand in a gesture towards the large sheet of parchment. Albert's eyes widened when he saw the mass of runes and numbers, and whistled.

"Wow. It worked! That's my brain? Its big, I must be smart" Albert said, getting up from the table and walking over to the parchment. He reached out to touch it, and Chris grabbed his wrist.

"Don't. The runes are still charged. Unless you want something weird like your hand turning into an antler, I wouldn't touch it" Chris warned. Albert gave a sheepish grin, and examined it.

"This makes no sense to me. Does it make sense to you?" he asked. Chris squinted at the mess of runes and numbers, and grinned.

"Not really," he admitted, causing Albert to look at him in surprise. Chris smirked at his friend, "but I'll figure it out"

*~*~*~**RC*~*~*~*

And figure it out he did. Between the DA meetings and school work, Chris managed to decipher and compress the brain processes of an over-eager Hufflepuff into a clean, though still complicated, runic algorithm. Halfway through, he had idly wondered if this counted as Necromancy, before squashing that thought with the reassurance that he wasn't using a deceased brain, just a written copy of a volunteer. While the algorithm took up three rolls of parchment (he had to revert to parchment when he realized he'd fill up half of his notebooks with the writing) it was much more compact and neat then the original creation.

Now that he had successfully mapped the human brain, he had to build a casing for it to reside in. He decided that he could build something better later and transfer the A.I into it, and just start off with a basic shell.

He scavenged through the Room of Hidden Things, and found a basketball that he transfigured into something a bit more durable. It was a bit of a strange material. He was stuck deciding between plastic and fibreglass, and his magic reacted, turning the basketball into a fusion of the two. So, it was light as fibreglass, and durable as hard plastic.

Next up, he used a cutting charm to cut the ball in half, so he could inscribe the runic brain on the inside. While he was carving it into it, he upped the loyalty towards him. He didn't want the A.I to turn evil and attack him. It took all evening to carve it, as he had to do each bit CAREFULLY, but when he was done, he repaired the sphere and carved an activation rune where the top would be.

"Alright, time for the moment of truth" Chris breathed, and he placed his right hand on the activation rune, before channelling his magic into it. It was the oddest feeling. He felt like the runes latched onto his magic like a suckling infant. He stumbled as his magic felt like it was being dragged from his body. His back arced as his core lashed out at the runes, as if scolding a bratty child. Chris felt pain burn in his hand, and his vision began to blacken at the edge.

'_I need… I need help!'_ he screamed mentally, at least he thought it was mentally. He could have been screaming out to the room for all he knew. He felt a pulse rush through the air, before his vision went black and he collapsed.

*~*~*~**RC*~*~*~*

Chris groaned as he felt little dwarves banging away at his head with hammers.

"Shtop it… ouch…" he mumbled, his speech slurred. What did he drink last night? Was it another Jagerbomb? His brother always said they were…

Wait, brother?

Chris sat up with a gasp, which was followed by a small scream and the sound of something crashing to the ground. Sweat was pouring down his face, and he reached to wipe it away with his right hand. But when he did, all he felt was a blunt stump. He jumped, and stared at what used to be his hand. His hand was gone, and all that was left was a bandaged stump right before his wrist. In his shock, his brain sent the neuro-signal to his arm to make him wiggle his fingers. But no fingers were wiggled that day.

"Mr. Johnson! You should be more careful. You're still healing!" scolded the voice of Poppy Pomfrey.

'_Oh dear lord I'm back in the anti-bacterial hellhole again.'_ He thought to himself.

"What happened?" he asked, light brushing the fingers of his left hand over his bandages. He noticed he also had a few winding scars going up his right arm, which looked a little bit like lightning arcs.

"We thought you could tell us. Your little friend isn't all that informative" Pomfrey sniffed, gathering up the tray and repairing the shattered water jug while vanishing the spilled water.

"Friend?" Chris muttered, turning to his left. Almost immediately he was confronted with a large eyeball with a blue iris.

"Oh hello!" _spoke_ the eyeball, oddly in a cockney accent cheerfully.

"AAAARRGH!" Chris screamed, backing away and falling off his bed. He landed on his injured arm, and screamed out again, only this time in pain rather than shock. Madam Pomfrey rushed over and levitated him back into the bed, before gently pushing the floating orb backwards.

"I said you should have given him some time to recover. He just discovered he lost a hand" Pomfrey scolded the orb. The iris seemed to glide across the surface of the orb in what was unmistakably an eye roll.

"Oh please, I woke up next to the bleeding form of my best friend without my body, and I didn't react THIS badly!" the orb said.

"You were a gibbering mess for two hours" Pomfrey pointed out dryly.

"I reject your reality and substitute my own"

"SHUT UP!" Chris shouted, breathing hard. The two froze and stared at him in shock. Well, Pomfrey was shocked. It was kind of hard to decipher the orbs expressions. "What… what happened?" he whispered.

"While you were creating your talking basketball, there was a clash of magic that caused your hand to… pretty much vanish. The room you were in answered your call for help and created a door next to Mr Potter and Miss Granger. They carried you and this fellow here for treatment. Mr Johnson, what on earth were you doing?" asked Pomfrey, looking quite frazzled. Chris looked at the orb, and realization hit him like a ton of bricks.

"I was… was trying to create an artificial intelligence. Brain mapping. And I think I succeeded." Chris said, shocked. The sphere spun around in shock.

"Really?! Where?" he said. Chris blinked.

"Make that Artificial Personality"


End file.
